


Love, Luckism & Other Stupid Things

by Kenmai



Category: Original Work
Genre: (Very brief), Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Artists, Awkward Dates, Blowjobs, Camboys, Coffee Shops, College, Dating, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gen, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort (brief), Jealousy, L.L.O.S.T, Light Angst (only a bit), M/M, Meeting Family, Meeting the Parents, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sickfic, Slight Age Difference, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, Teacher-Student Relationship, Wholesome, and that is solely for story reasons, brief mentions of homophobia, dont let the tags steer you away from reading it, handjobs, sexual content only drives the story for two of our main couples, this story is like 80 percent plot 20 percent porn btw.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23720572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenmai/pseuds/Kenmai
Summary: Damien doesn't want anything to do with love, he's constantly on the run and looking for a good time with whoever's nearby. Quentin is a shy, but tough-on-the-surface, detective that crosses paths with him in the middle of a scandal that goes south.Leo is just trying to work a few extra jobs and make rent best as he can when he starts to notice that he's been getting a stalker…Chase is a seemingly quiet art student, freshly new to the city when he finds his muse...Sunny was always moving from person to person, never settling down, only to chase that feeling of fleeting happiness every night. That is until he gets mixed up with the leader of a gang named WolfGang. (totally original right)And well; Frost is a cam-boy. Who unknowingly gains a fan from his university. His new English Professor, Allen.---i am just a simple gal, all i do is eat hot chip, get inspired by other stories then forget how to writeUPDATES | sporadicSOULMATE | AUhotel | trivago
Kudos: 5





	1. the art of being unlucky

**Author's Note:**

> ive been inspired recently by some stories ive been reading from this one author, good lord are they good at what they do... and so many original longform fics of their own...how could i not be inspired? 
> 
> anyway i wanted to try my own hand at writing something that follows multiple romances and different unlikely couples so here we go
> 
> here are the main characters and their ages:  
> Milo Wren (Sunny) - 18  
> Ashe Silas- 20  
> Cameron Marsh (Frost) - 19  
> Alexander V Allen - 27  
> Leo Lawliet- 22  
> Chase Rodriguez - 23  
> Quentin Riley Lang - 25  
> Damien Crowley - 22

"Leo!" Frost loudly yelled as he burst through the doors of the SeaCrest Coffee-shop.

What followed after was a tired, _tired_ sigh from his long-time friend working at the counter. Said friend briefly paused at the machines to give the other a bemused glance.

'Frost' Marsh was a bit taller than average height, and lithe; days spent doing gymnastics back in high school having given him a bit of an advantage. _Compared to Leo at least._ He had rich, tanned skin, and his originally blonde hair color had been dyed a silvery white as usual. Some would say his hair was as white as snow even, though he preferred to keep the illusion up that it was naturally lighter. He had long lashes that danced over freckled cheeks, and a smile that practically radiated danger. His eyes were usually squinted in the tell-tale signs of mischief, the corners of them creasing in a way that they always did whenever he was happy.

The autumn air was usually quite chilly, but today of all days it had let up a little. So he dressed a bit warmer; a light gray sweater over a white shirt and some black jeans to boot. His old, ratty converse made a pitiful noise as he walked the expanse of the entrance to the counter in a few strides.

 _Curse his long, stupid legs._ Leo found himself thinking.

Luckily there weren't many people in so early at this time of day, the store having only just recently opened for the morning. Leo himself was still finishing the last stages of prep for a few things, checking to see that everything had been filled and of course, making sure that the display case was properly stocked with sugar treats. The rush of the working morning crowd wasn't here quite yet, but soon, Leo knew that students rushing to school and businessmen and women alike would be eager to get their morning fill to prepare for the hectic day. He would welcome the chaos to distract him had he been in a better mood.

Early mornings were not his thing, but yet he had to be in bright and early anyway.

He must _really_ hate himself to do this nearly every single day. 

"God, Frost can you shut up for one day. Seriously, stop yelling!" His friend scolded him in a tone that leaned more towards fondness. But still he chastised him. "You're lucky we don't have a crowd yet. Hell, if you're gonna come to the store act like a customer, don't get me fired from this one at least." Leo rolled his eyes.

Leo himself had light brown-skin, and messy reddish-brown hair that was well, not the _easiest_ to manage, the curly strands having practically eaten through a brush or two in his lifetime so far. His golden eyes looked up from behind the counter to meet pink ones. Or rather, pink contacts. Frost's eyes were actually more of a brownish burgundy color, but not many knew that, the other usually sporting his pink ones. And even more-so he was always sporting these really gaudy yellow heart-framed sunglasses. So it wasn't like most people noticed the difference in his eye color at all.

But still he adored them.

Frost had this weird thing of wanting to stand out but not stand out too much, constantly juggling between both. His contacts were special to him of course, the only places he usually didn't wear them were at jobs and when he went to university. But here in the cafe, it was comfortable and familiar, so he wore them from time to time.

Frost made a noise of fake hurt and held his chest. "Can i not visit my friend during his morning shift and say hello?"

"What did you break?" Leo quickly questioned. His face was void of emotion, rather deadpanned, as if he was already used to this. "Rather. what do you want? Or what did you do this time?" He turned away to fix his apron, checking the pocket to make sure his phone was still there.

"This time i- _why Leonardo_. Do you not trust me?" He practically pouted.

"No." Frost actually faltered at that. "Joking. I'm joking Frost." Leo assured him, a slight smile playing at his lips. "What did you actually need though, bud?" Though they were in university together, Frost was the youngest out of the two; having freshly hit nineteen he was....well, on the path to his third or fourth quarter mid-life crisis. The stress of school and life usually leading the other to procrastinate like crazy, which only amped up his well-hidden anxiety. Today though, he seemed a bit better. And Leo had a soft spot for making sure his friends were okay. Call him sappy but he just wanted everyone to be okay.

"Alright well first, can i get a chocolate muffin?" Frost quietly asked. "I swear I'll pay this time."

Leo was already behind the counter and pulling back the display case to get it. "Do you want the usual as well?"

"Mhm. If you don't mind."

And so Leo got to work, his hands moving along with the familiar motion of preparing a drink. The 'usual' for Frost was just a simple hot chocolate with extra sugar, but it was easy enough to make at least. He ducked behind the counter to open the display case, easily picking out one of the chocolate muffins to put on a plate for the other. It was still warm.

And as he ushered the sweet treat and the hot beverage on the counter he was careful not to forget the straw. The paper straws at that, and not the plastic ones. Frost would always make sure to specify about why business' shouldn't be using the plastic ones anymore and all that crap or whatever. He was just particular like that about the environment.

But still Leo indulged him.

With a flourish, he carefully placed it next to his drink. 

Frost was quick to reach out for it.

"Now what was it you wanted to talk about?" Leo raised a brow. He eyed the doorway, just a quick check to make sure no customers were coming.

"Have you seen Sunny or heard from Quentin lately? I woke up today and Sunny wasn't in his room." He said as he went on about his roommate. "And well, I dunno." He said looking down at his drink. "I just haven't heard from Quinn in awhile y'know? Obviously i don't have a car and you live closer to him so... He's not drowning his sorrows at the pub again, is he?"

"Beats me." He shrugged as he handed the other his cup. “Though I heard he has some new cases coming up. That could be it.” He leaned on the counter lazily and watched as Frost took a bite out of his muffin. He seemed thoughtful.

Speaking of the other man though: Quentin was the designated oldest of their group, jet black hair and some rugged stubble to boot. He was in his late twenties, years of training to be a detective weighing heavily under his belt. Though pretty much all of their friend group went to university; some sharing a dorm while others rented a space together, Quentin was the one not currently in higher education. He merely lived nearby the apartment building Leo and Mickey rented together. The two having met him here and there until he stumbled one day into the coffee shop the friend group frequented. It was there that he quickly grew close to the others, seamlessly becoming part of the crew.

It was pure coincidence that two people in their friend group had nicknames relating to the weather though, but hey what can you do.

Leo hummed as his thoughts trailed to Sunny. "Last i heard about Sunny though, was that he was trying out for that new position part time? You know that one little office building with the stupid parking area downtown." Leo supplied, all the while Frost nodded.

"Yeah. But he didn't come home again last night though... I messaged him like crazy. Usually he yells at me for sleeping in and leaving my dirty dishes in the sink,-" _"So you admit you're lazy._ " "BUT, it was like super quiet this morning. It’s been this way for three days straight." He continued ignoring Leo's interjection. "I'm a bit worried."

"You know how he can be sometimes... He likes to sleep around. Not like we can do much about the lad.. He's his own adult." He said somewhat grumpily. They'd talked to Sunny about his habits more than they would've liked to. Sure the ginger-haired boy was the picture of kindness. Cute, funny and smart to boot. He had his dumb moments from time to time but he always meant well. 

His radiance was what even earned him the nickname 'Sunny'. But he'd been hurt one to many times in the past apparently, opting only to hop from partner to partner these days. Leo just wished he did it a little less frequently than nearly every night though... Most times he'd slip away from his scandalous affairs and be home late at night or early morning, there to wake Frost up if he slept in too late. But those days he didn't come home, bed empty as a sign that he was still out... It was times like these when his friends were really worried about him.

There was always that nagging thought lingering in the back of their heads sometimes saying; _What if he went home with the wrong person one night? What if he never came back because something bad happened? What if, what if, what if...?_

Leo could feel worry pricking at the back of his neck already. But he tried to keep up a cool front, at the very least for Frost more-so than himself. He was the pseudo leader of their little group after all; the glue that held everyone together. Which also unceremoniously made him somewhat of the caretaker. He'd been deemed the mother of their group more times than he would've liked to admit. And while he wouldn't outright deny it either he hated to acknowledge that sort of thing out loud. He had his own pride to uphold too. _But regardless_ , he was their rock. 

Any of the boys could come to him to vent about their problems, and he’d be there for them.

“Listen, i'll try to call him soon if i can and maybe see what’s up with him. If he doesn't respond by midday then we can get the group together and brainstorm on what to do.” He’d prefer not to call the police if he could help it, but if they needed to then…

He shook his head.

Frost took a careful sip of his drink. “Alright, Lee.” Not missing the affectionate nickname the boy would sometimes give the other. Though it was as cute as it was creative he would admit. There’s not much one can do to make a nickname for a name already as short as Leo.

The bell above the door chimed, signalling the arrival of a new customer. The morning crew would be here any minute now. As much as he loved the other, it wouldn’t look too good for business if he was idling by the counter talking to friends. He sat up and dusted off his apron.

“Great. Now _Lee_ -ave me alone. I got work to do. Scoot.” He waved his hands away. "I'll talk to you later."

Frost tsked and moved to grab his treats before he stuck his tongue out. With that he was on his way. 

“See ya!”

\---

* * *

\---

Sometime after Frost had left things were running smoothly. Morning had come and the lunch crowd were well on their way to keeping him very busy. He moved mindlessly, the flow of the crowd and the subtle stress of trying to serve people in a timely manner kept him constantly ticking and going. Honestly, he liked always being on the move. It was a curse and a blessing in disguise that he  _ did _ like being busy. Leo already struggled to pay rent, even though he split half the place with his childhood friend, Mickey. But they were both still pretty young, and had to pay for other personal necessities like groceries, clothes and school items. And well, rent didn't come easy even so between the two of them after all was said and done. Not to mention- He was always working at least two jobs; lucky to have something that was stable enough for awhile before he would move onto the next thing.

So far the coffee shop had been one of his longest jobs; a steady year of work practically making him a pro in the ways of the brew. He greatly enjoyed it of course, and there was already a set routine to it as well. There were some regulars he;d come to recognize over time, and he didn’t mind most of his co-workers. Also it paid decently well. But for now he would stick to it.

Eventually someone else emerged from the back room, their bright lavender dreadlocks making them stick out like a sore thumb. Said, locks were pulled up in one, some lightly falling over the back of her neck.

“Yo, Leo.” She lazily greeted him with a smile. 

“Hey Mari, glad to see you're finally up and clocked in.” He snorted. “You’re lucky the manager is out today or she would’ve fried your ass over this. Again.”

“Annnd that is exactly why I  _ did _ do this today.” The dark-skinned girl smirked.

Maria was a part-timer as well, though Leo of course worked more hours than most. Oftentimes she would be the one that was stuck with him the most, her carefree attitude was as inviting as it was a little annoying sometimes. But she got her job done well enough and never really gave him trouble, so the two would bond a bit over idle chatter when things slowed down. He supposed she was the closest thing he could call a friend here at work.

But it wasn’t really like they hung out outside of that or anything. They’d maybe share memes and a few short messages when off the job, some of said messages being about work and scheduling.

Regardless though he still liked her company as she could be very entertaining. 

Mari brushed off her apron, making sure that everything was ok. 

Leo practically rolled his eyes as he spotted a customer in line eyeing the other girl up. Mari, had a similar tired look on her face. Leo almost felt sorry for her whenever this happened. They made a little game out of it, just to see how many times the girl would be flirted with and hit on. She was literally just minding her business, being polite and serving people. Yet here was another guy in line, already shooting his shot. It was almost like she could never catch a break.

He watched as she tried to politely send the other on his way, wondering if she’d be ok. But hey, at least there were only two people left in the queue for now. Quite disinterestedly, he turned back to his post, but then he saw the next customer walk up in line.

This guy’s hair was blonde, a bright blonde. So much so that it could’ve almost given Frost’s white hair a run for his money. He had to look twice to make sure it was blonde, that’s how light it was. And it seemed natural at that.

His eyes seemed green… or gray? Grayish green was his conclusion, not really being able to tell quite well. And said eyes widened as he looked at him.

Leo gave him a concerned look, brows raising as his mouth set in a slight frown. “Sir…?”

_ Dimples.... _ The other seemed to note as he stared at him, obviously lost in his own thoughts. _He had dimples. Cute._

Leo cleared his throat, catching the other’s attention. "Can i.... help you?"

The stranger seemed to finally realize that he was staring, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Right. Sorry." He said almost shyly.

Leo was taken aback at the rich voice that left the other. Sure he was tall and built like a tower, but for some reason the voice had surprised him. For one this guy looked, well how should he put this. Like a wallflower per se. He also had a slight accent it seemed, though he couldn't quite pick up from where.

“Um, what exactly would you like to get?” Leo said trying to get back on task. He waited patiently as the other eyed the display case.

“Hm, two brownies,” He pointed at the ones on display, careful to avoid the ones labelled with having peanuts in them. “And just a cappuccino please. Hot.” 

“For here or to go?”

“Here.” The customer’s smooth voice answered.

“Okay, got it. That’ll be $6.20 total.” He said already moving to get to work on the drink. He could feel those eyes watching him as he worked, opting to dutifully ignore it as he let his mind prepare the drink. Once all was said and done he skillfully plated two chocolate brownies and handed everything over, taking the money in exchange. “Here you go.” He started to count up the change when the other waved his hands.

“Oh, no you can keep the change.” He quietly said. “Please.”

And he went to a corner of the cafe and settled down there. He took a moment to spread his laptop on the counter, and something that seemed like a notebook of sorts was also placed next to it. And then he just... sat there. He sat there and stared at Leo from his little nook, with all the subtlety of a kid in a candy store. He didn't even pretend to hide it, much to Leo's chagrin. Said worker found himself looking away in muffled annoyance, opting to deal with the register instead.

Mari gave him a questionable look as she whispered. “What was that all about?”

Leo shook his head. “No idea.”

“Hey.” She suddenly smiled, leaning on the counter as she looked at him. “Maybe they're interested in you. He definitely seems a lot nicer than any of the guys I get. A bit odd but nice.” She waved away her last customer with a smile, the figure hurriedly leaving to get to work.

“Don't confuse general polite kindness with flirting Mari.” Leo sighed checking the drawers. _Ten... twenty.... thirty..._

He heard her tsk somewhere to his left. “You should go talk to them. I can cover you for a bit, obviously.” She motioned to the rest of the room, everyone chatting away to their own groups and others left to enjoy their drinks and sugary sweets in peace. The store wasn't currently that busy, its patrons just chilling out.

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nah, you know i don’t have time for dating. I have other things on my plate. He seems okay and all but i’d rather not.”

The girl hummed. “Well, fine if you say so.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry for pushing it i guess.”

“No, you're fine it’s just.” He shrugged. “You know. Life.”

“Yea i gotchu.” She waved a well-manicured hand. She seemed wistful then. “If only i could find a nice guy or something. Maybe a nice girl. I’m not picky at this point anymore honestly.” She chuckled.

Leo huffed in amusement. “Hey, more power to you if you do find one.”

The two spent the rest of their time serving people that would drift in and out of the store, quiet conversation passing between them. Mari mostly kept to her phone, quietly playing songs for the two of them to listen to in between prepping drinks. Leo went on his break and came back, only for Mari to yawn next to him.

“Can you close up shop for me today? I need to head out a bit earlier to do some family related things soon.” She frowned. “ _ Sorrrry _ .”

“Fine. But you owe me.” Leo said. “Bring some more of that fancy banana bread your mom makes and perhaps I shall be persuaded.”

“ _ Banana bread isn't fancy. _ ” She laughed. “But I’ll see what i can do.” She winked. And then she blew a dramatic kiss in his direction, hastily leaving to go to the back rooms as he waved. And as the other customers started to eventually clear out, Leo found that he was watching the front doors, the sky's rich orange color eventually giving way to a darker blue.

It was getting close to closing time. And yet the customer was still there. And only then did Leo start to grow weary of the other. Most people had cleared out, leaving once the sun had started to set into a deep orange hue. But now the sky was a rich blue, hints of purple and pink still littering the sky. It was the switch right before everything became a dark deep indigo, and Leo, more than exhausted, wanted to go home and catch a nap before his short shift at the convenience store.

Carefully he cleaned up the counters and dried his hands, getting ready to remove his apron. But that was when he saw it. 

His hand.

More importantly, his wrist.

The dull gray that once was on it, the same sight that had greeted his eyes everyday for twenty two years; was now a bright red. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other shift in his seat, and for some reason the movement caught his eye. He looked up quickly to see that the stranger was getting up. He was heading right towards the counter at that. Leo stilled as he watched him, hand still held up as the red glow surrounded his arm. And it was like time stopped when the other offered him a sheepish smile.

"Uh, hi. The name's Chase. I-" He seemed unsure of how to continue from there, but Leo was still frozen, watching. "-I'll just show you... It's much quicker."

Leo could only stay silent as the other rolled up his sleeve.

A red mark was what met him.

He wasn't sure what he was exactly expecting to see, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this was probably a possibility... but to actually _see_ it was... he didn't know how to feel exactly. _Betrayed by the universe? Bitter? Happy was probably the furthest thing he felt._

Leo didn't have to look at his own wrist to know that he had the _exact_ same red pattern, this strangers' version being the perfect mirrored copy of his. 

And for some reason the thought had Leo stepping back.

“Um, i know this is a lot suddenly but.”

He didn't seem to be good with his words, taking a moment to pull something out of his book. Which upon closer inspection he realized it was a sketchbook more specifically. It was a piece of paper, of course, because what else would be in a sketchbook? But this particular sheet of paper had something scribbled on it. It was a beautiful sketched piece of art, the subject of the drawing seeming to be drawn from a distance. It was a drawing of...Leo. It seemed to be when he was idle at the counter, his head resting on his hand as he daydreamed. It was probably during a time of day when there weren't many customers. And this 'Chase' guy was just watching him.

His eyes scanned the page, searching for... what he wasn't sure. As the minutes ticked by he knew even less and less of what to feel about the situation. But yet his eyes still roamed the page, ever confused.

And even further below it was a phone number. His full name scribbled under the digits.  
_Chase Rodriguez._

He wouldn't be one to pressure him into dating right on the spot though it seemed, opting to give him space. He had given him the paper with his number lest he decided he wanted to talk things out, but that was that. And so he returned his hands to his side, and away from Leo.

The stranger hastily left after that.

And somehow, even so, Leo felt sick to his stomach.


	2. the art of making bad choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunny could tell that Quentin was mad. Any sane person could probably tell that he was mad. The dark-haired man didn't get angry often, usually the type to get irritated and annoyed quickly until it built up. This was an unfortunate case of the latter. It started off with the smaller gestures.
> 
> It was the way in which his fingers gingerly tapped the steering wheel, silent as he looked ahead, eyes staying focused on the road. That silence alone spoke volumes, which worried the other only slightly. Sunny was sat in the passenger seat next to him, strapped into his seat-belt without being told for once. He spent most of the ride staring out the window, casting nervous glances at the other. Like a child that knew they were in trouble, he was trying his best not to completely push the other over the edge. Because Quentin was surely at the precipice of another lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter mostly explored Leo's introduction, sort of dipped our toe into the pool that is Frost as well
> 
> but anyway this next one introduces the Frost/Alex dynamic  
> and a bit of Sunny of course

The first thing Sunny did upon gaining consciousness was tiredly groan.

Green eyes scanned the unfamiliar side of the room that he was facing. They took in everything they landed on, trying to piece together some semblance of familiarity: A disheveled bookshelf, the light peeking through the curtains, some clothes hastily strewn on the floor, the blankets practically falling off the edge of his bedside...Slowly it was starting to make sense. He was still on the thin line of getting used to being awake of course, just on the cusp of consciousness as his eyes adjusted to the bright morning light, so he excused his rather slow moving brain for now.

He felt light-headed; and was honestly still a bit groggy, but waking up tended to do that to you. Without looking in a mirror he already knew his ginger-hair was a mess, the struggles of tossing and turning in his sleep. He'd been doing it for years, and probably wouldn't stop anytime soon, but still, the bed was always a welcome place to crash. If an extra body wanted to provide some warm for the night along with it then... well, he'd take it. Speaking of extra bodies though, his earlier commotion of waking up must have vaguely alerted the person next to him.

It was then that he felt an arm snuggle it's way around his waist, a low deep voice mumbling something in their sleep. It only took Sunny a minute to realize where he was. He viciously fought the urge to just sit up, everything in his brain telling his body to stay very still. For one this was _definitely_ not his room, and _definitely_ not his bed. Vague memories flashed through his head in that instance; the caress of a careful hand on his hip at the bar, the feel of someone's lips on his neck, catching a cab back here.... oh no.

He felt himself cringing at the memory.

Sure he liked the hooking up part, but you'd think after so many nights of these he'd deal with the morning after a bit better. It never seemed easy.

Either things were awkward, or they got weird.

And he'd rather not be around for either.

For a moment he waited, silent and listening. Just wanting to make sure the person next to him; whoever they may be wasn't actually awake yet. Gosh he didn't even remember their name. Something with an L? Or a D... Daniel? Liam? Well it didn't matter too much, he'd be out of his hair soon after all.

Carefully, and ever slowly, he lifted the offending arm off of his slender frame, moving to shimmy off of the bed. Cautiously, ever so cautiously he looked back at the sleeping person next to him.

That was the thing about one night stands.

When it came down to the following morning, there only ever seemed to be two outcomes. At least that's the conclusion he came to in his head. It was either both parties would wake up, the two realizing what they'd done and agree to part on equally awkward terms. Or well, the more displeasing outcome.... one half usually hinting that maybe they could go for something long-term amidst all the passion. The was the furthest thing he wanted. I mean it's a one-night stand for a reason.

He'd love to avoid that at all costs.

Sunny moved with purpose across the small apartment space, careful to step over a stray shoe that was obviously not his. His green eyes squinted at the floor, trying to spot out which was his. He was able to find his jeans amidst the scramble, deftly trying to get one leg through, then the other. He soon grew frustrated trying to find his t-shirt, opting to just grab a pair from one of the articles loosely hanging on a chair. Chairs were free reign okay. At least he hadn't taken one from a drawer or closet. But to be fair if he did that it would make noise anyway. 

He shook his head as he thought to himself.

He momentarily passed a mirror, taking a moment to back-track.

The first thing besides his hair to catch his attention in the reflection was his height. It was always his height.

You'd think that being the youngest in the crew would automatically make him the shortest, yet there he was, in all his lanky glory. He wasn't a _giant_ by any means, but he definitely wasn't lacking in the height department. He definitely towered over Leo, but he was at least on par with Frost's height, Quentin towering over the two of them. He still had an unmistakable 'baby-face' as Leo sometimes said, and he was cute sure. Extremely cute in his opinion- But the height definitely gave him an advantage sometimes.

Sunny eyed himself in the mirror, milky white hands moving to touch his so-called 'baby-face'. He felt himself roll his eyes, standing up a little taller.

He moved away from the mirror to locate his shoes, making a little happy noise when he spotted one half of the pair. He bent down to put it on.

 _Whatever. Leo could kiss his-_

Suddenly there was a sharp ringing noise, then the follow-up of a loud vibration. It went silent, then repeated the process again. _Oh shit that was his phone._

Sunny silently cursed. _Where oh where was it-_

He fumbled to find his phone, hands moving about to feel his pockets. He snatched up the ringing phone, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. He was quick to answer in a hushed whisper.

_"Hello-"_

The offending voice cut in from the other side of the phone obviously angry. _"SUNNY-"_ The voice rang through the static.

 _"God-"_ Sunny held the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly at the volume. He gave a quick, panicked glance at the guy still sleeping in bed, just to make sure that the noise hadn't woken him. And when all seemed fine and dandy he was answering again. Tentatively he put the phone in the crook of his neck. _"Leo, hiii. Can you maybe lower your voice please? I'm uh, kind of in the middle of something."_

_"For fuck's sake Sunny where are you. What are you in the middle of even? Frost is worried sick."_

_"So what, you guys aren't worried then? Just Frost?"_ Sunny snorted reaching for his last shoe. Oh wait a minute. He spotted his yellow hoodie on the floor, quickly moving to snatch it up. Couldn't leave that behind.

 _"Of course we're worried, stupid."_ The ginger-haired boy was well aware that they all cared for him. Humor just seemed to be his first resort at trying to lighten the situation. _"Anyway, stop dodging the question."_

Sunny quietly sighed, moving towards what seemed to be the front door. Great he was almost there. _"Well, I_ was _on my way home until someone called. Kind of trying to get out of a sticky situation before someone wakes up. If you catch my drift."_

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end, but Sunny knew well enough the weight of disbelief the silence carried. Leo's voice chipped in from the receiver after some time. _"I- Sunny. Please, don't tell me you're still at the guys place."_

" _...Mhmm..."_ Sunny mumbled somewhat sheepishly. _"Don't worry though i'm on my way out. Or at least i was until someone so rudely called and almost blew my chances of quietly leaving-"_

"Milo?" A low voice yawned in tired confusion from somewhere behind him. He froze, hands already on the doorknob. "You up already?"

He heard the tell-tale signs of them stretching. The sounds of Leo sighing in his ear were already forgotten. He was positive that Leo'd heard another voice speak on his end. He was screwed.

 _"I'm gonna have to talk to you later. Please ask Quinn to pick me up."_ Sunny quickly whispered into his phone before hanging up. Leo would have to scold him later.

Slowly he turned around to face the person he'd spent the night with, a lopsided smile on his face. "Oh, hi! Morning."

They tiredly rubbed at their eyes for a moment, covers still draped over their very naked form. He gave the other a confused look, the way he was fully dressed and at the door already kicking in. "Oh." Was all they said for a moment. Just sitting there, staring at him in thoughtful silence. The two of them in the quiet. The silence of the room was slowly starting to eat at Sunny's nerves. He was about to speak when the other beat him to it. Whatever had been on his mind had seemed to pass over. "You headin' out then?"

"Yes. Promptly." Sunny quickly said. "Um, thanks for last night though uhhh...." Oh fuck he really did forget his name.

"Michael." Fuck, that was nowhere near close to starting with a D or an L.

"Right, Michael!" He blinked once, then twice. "Okay, bye!"

Michael gave a lazy wave, opting to go back under the covers and sleep some more.

Sunny didn't have to be told twice, unlocking the door to step out into the daylight. He squinted at the bright light for a moment, taking in the sky. The sun was blazing, having set itself up high in favor of shining its heat down on everything in the vicinity. Good lord was it blazing outside. Hopefully that meant that it would be cool later. He let his feet carry him downstairs, past the apartment complex of wherever he resided and to the bus stop. If he went home with someone it had to at least be nearby the general area of where all the familiar spots were. He sent Quinn his location and waited. 

\---

To say that Quentin was mad was a complete understatement.

Sunny could tell that Quentin was mad. Any sane person could probably tell that he was mad. The dark-haired man didn't get angry often, usually the type to get irritated and annoyed quickly until it built up. This was an unfortunate case of the latter. It started off with the smaller gestures.

It was the way in which his fingers gingerly tapped the steering wheel, silent as he looked ahead, eyes staying focused on the road. That silence alone spoke volumes, which worried the other only slightly. Sunny was sat in the passenger seat next to him, strapped into his seat-belt without being told for once. He spent most of the ride staring out the window, casting nervous glances at the other. Like a child that knew they were in trouble, he was trying his best not to completely push the other over the edge. Because Quentin was surely at the precipice of another lecture. All it'd take was for the other to simply breathe and he'd be on him.

And oh, i wasn't the fact that he was merely having sex that was the problem; it was just the amount of times Sunny would fall into his pattern of flings in the span of a week that got on the older man's nerves. The fact that he was constantly putting himself out there like that. Sunny already wasn't that adept at keeping his grades up, which was another lecture in and of itself, but Quentin had right to be concerned as his pseudo guardian.

Concern could only carry his patience so far though. 

When he had pulled up to the bus-stop next to the other he'd merely uttered a _'Get in'_ before the two were off. And then all was silent after that, putting them in their current situation.

Quentin briefly met his eyes, and unfortunately it was at that moment his gaze landed on the not so hidden hickey on Sunny's neck.

The older man sighed long and deep. Had he not been driving, Sunny was sure he'd pinch the bridge of his nose in contempt.

Sunny pulled the drawstrings of his yellow hoodie even tighter, feigning normalcy. "So, uh-" He piped up after some deliberation; a dopey smile on his face. "How's the case going?" He tried to lighten the mood, and also take the focus off of him.

The familiar area of the mall and it's surrounding buildings came and went, and even the very club he went to last night passed by in somewhat of a blur. He watched them go by, and soon enough the college district came up. The sidewalks were already lined up with students trying to get to class, some obviously late as they hurried to make the trek back to the campus. This area was the busiest part of this particular town for reasons already stated, but Sunny liked the hustle and bustle of watching other people work hard.

Quentin gave him a suspicious look, already aware of his tricks, but he gave in nonetheless. He was proud of his work as a detective after all, even if the officer couldn't shed as much info as he would've liked to on his work. "As you know, i can't exactly talk about it considering it's confidential, so i can't go into detail... But, we have made a small breakthrough amongst all the paperwork and minor eye witness testimonies. We're really starting to get somewhere and well, i'm feeling good about it i suppose." He finished with a flourish.

Sunny nodded. "That's nice."

"It is."

They came to a stop at an intersection, the traffic steadily slowing before them. The mood in the car felt just a tad bit lighter, but even still, after awhile Sunny found his gaze returning to the window to watch the busy streets. It was then that the orange-haired boy spotted the familiar bright, yellow logo in the distance. He vaguely felt his stomach growl. God, he hadn't had breakfast had he?

"Hey, Quinn." He tried with his most smallest sounding voice.

"Hm?" He was still looking ahead of course, but curiously enough the other still tilted his head slightly; just to show that he was listening. Even though he was still quite angry. The small gesture made Sunny happy enough as it was though. He almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

Almost.

"Can we get McDonald's?" He lightly asked, already knowing he didn't have any money on him.

" _McD-_ " Quentin said flabbergasted. He fully turned to look at him. "You're asking me for McDonald's after all this!?"

Sunny innocently nodded. "Yeah... Come on, Quinn.... i'm really hungry. I might faint before i get back to my dorm at this rate!" He said quite dramatically. "Please?"

After long silence of contemplation it seemed the younger boy had won him over. "Goddamnit, alright fine. Just don't tell the others, lest we get a whole crowd asking me to buy them free food every time." The sigh that left his mouth was very telling, but regardless as the light went green he made the proper motions to get in the right lane. They turned into the drive-through quite smoothly, all the while Quentin ignored Sunny's excited chanting. "Getting myself a McFlurry before i drop you off. Definitely gonna need it."

"Whoo!" _Success._

Frost sat up from his place on the couch as the other stepped through the doorway, eyes wide in surprise. "Sunny! You're safe!" The feeling momentarily washed over him, the surprise turning into relief, and then relief into mild anger. "And where the hell have you been!"

"God everyone's so worried over nothing."

Frost frowned.

"I can explain." The ginger-head raised his hands up in defense.

"How did you get home? Why didn't you message me? Or call me even?" It was like they were playing 20 questions without all the answers.

"Come on, Cam. Stop fussing over me, i'm not a baby. I'm an adult."

Frost fixed the younger boy with an unamused stare. "We're only one year apart dude. I'm more adult than you and i'm struggling."

Sunny clicked his teeth.

"I'm just looking out for you." The older boy rolled his eyes.

"Please just stay in the dorm tonight? Or something?" He motioned to the T.V. , free hand already moving to guide the two of them over to the couch. "Look we can chill, and play games like we used to. Maybe roast some bad movies; the normal you know?"

Sunny couldn't help but smile as he sat down. "Well... when you put it that way..."

Frost practically beamed. "Sweet, i'll find something on Netflix. There's always something..."

"You're not wrong about that."

"By the way." Frost said scratching his cheeks. "I'm gonna be doing that thing tonight so uh, just a heads up."

Sunny let himself relax. "As i always say, no judgement from me."

"Thanks Sunny." Frost gave him a genuine smile. And he got comfy next to him on their tattered old couch. He paused for a moment, sniffing the air. With a raise of the brow he looked curiously at the other. "Y'know.... you kinda smell like french fries." Frost leveled him with a suspicious look. "The greasy kind..."

"All fries are greasy, Cam." Sunny rolled his eyes. Though he looked away, his precious snack session with Quentin was supposed to be a secret. He was never the best at lying.

"No but like, _fast food_ kind of greasy..."

The two of them stared at each other in silence for a long while, green eyes meeting darker ones. Eventually Sunny felt himself caving in.

"I _may_ have had something before i got here-"

"See, i knew it!"

"Ugh.... maybe i need a shower first after all."

\---

* * *

\---

It was one of those nights where Alex was lonely.

His hands mindlessly going through porn sites, trying to find _something_ to watch. He'd seen many things over the years, time having developed his tastes for certain tags and the like. But once you have your own tastes for what you want to see, sometimes it can be limiting to the amount of things you have left to watch that isn't yet discovered. He'd often found himself in this sort of situation, having browsed through sites and tweaking searches for hours on end. Sometimes to the point where he'd completely given up altogether on finding something, that feeling of desire in his stomach having already long gone. It was turning out to be a night just like that, seeking out the pleasure of masturbating only to cure his boredom once again; hours of mindlessly trying to find something new. Something exciting.

So here he was, searching for something new to watch. The problem with porn sometimes though was that most things were obviously fake and acted. The moment he came to a realization that something like that happening it would immediately take him out of it and he grew disinterested. Which left, ...very little to watch honestly. And though he was in fact an English teacher it’s not like he had the most creative imagination out there. His mind could only provide so much self-entertainment entertainment on it's own. So it probably just a personal problem.

And so, he mindlessly scrolled through more pages, ads popping up every 10 seconds and he would quickly click away.

It was then that something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

It was a notification for a cam show. Usually, for most sites, there would just be a preview of a few near the bottom of a page, or even a link at the top one could click to go to a page full of cam-shows; but it wasn't that odd to see one pop-up as an ad he supposed.

What intrigued him though was the person on cam themselves. It was just a little snippet of course, the preview of what was currently happening eventually going to go away. Curiously, he clicked on the page, figuring he had nothing better to do tonight.

But then the page finally loaded.

And then he saw him.

The cutest guy he'd practically _ever_ seen.

He had a bunny mask on. A black one at that. It was akin more to a mask one wore at a masquerade ball, only covering the area around his eyes, and funnily enough it had actual genuine fake ears attached at the top; the insides of said ears were trimmed with sparkly pink sequins. It was as gaudy as it was seductive, but he found he rather liked the ears as well. It bordered on being r e a l l y cute. 

His eyes quickly glanced down at his username, eager to take it in.

He felt his lips twitch upwards once he saw it. 

_**Bunbat69**_.... the name would’ve made him snort on a good day, but he was practically mesmerized.

It seemed that most people frequented between calling him three names in chat; _Bun, Bunny_ and _Cam_. The latter was probably just a shortened version of Cam Boy, come to think of it. But still he liked it. He liked all three names, not quite sure which he would settle on using. Though Cam was certainly the easiest. 

He couldn't help but think that the chat must've been full of other men like him... older, a bit desperate, probably just as lonely. ( _Wow way to call himself out.)_ The thought of that had him feeling disgusted for a brief moment but quickly he squashed the thought down deep in the pits of his mind. His attention was soon on the others' velvety voice again. 

Dark blue eyes watched the screen with rapt attention, admiring the others' features.

Milky white hair resting on slightly tanned skin... and not to mention his charming smile. He was lithe, with a slight bit of muscle on his form but those thighs. Oh did his thighs look soft. They were fit of course, the way his calves were well-shaped told no lies, but still, those thighs seemed to taunt him, looking soft enough to reach out and-

Before he knew it his hands were already flying at the keys.

And then he frowned, the site passive aggressively telling him that if he wanted to comment he'd need to make an account. He clicked his tongue, as if Bunbat69 himself had told him the bad news, but he was already opening up another incognito browser to make an account. Satisfied at his work and somewhat rebellious name, he refreshed and returned to the page, thankful when he saw the glow of his new username in the chat box. He continued typing where he left off, opting to ignore the spelling errors of the other messages flying by in chat:

 **IHateThisSite** : um hey

 **Capn_Charles:** _Hey sexi! Why don't you come over to my place. ;)_

 **LoverofAll:** ,, _Your so, grogeous babie, xoxo smooches_

 **IHateThisSite** : ignore my username, just wanted to say you look stunning (:

 **IHateThisSite** : but how are you? i hope your night or day has been okay?

Oh my god why did he send that he sounded like a dork who was using this for the first time. It wasn't like he hadn't watched cam-shows before he just... never commented! He’d only ever stayed long enough for the sites to be passive aggressive and tell him to make an account if he wanted to watch more. Which only made him click away faster.

But this particular camshow however... he was more than interesting.

And yet it was too late to take his messages back, being no way he could retract his comments like on other websites. But still, it seemed to catch his attention. And he watched with bated breath as they seemed to read the comments, the username obviously making them laugh and oh was it a wonderful sound. It was the type of breathy loud laugh where one threw their head back in happiness. Alex found that he quite liked it. And then it was like they smiled at him. Smiled right at him and something in his chest fluttered. He felt the feeling so strong.

 _Cam_ , he decided he would call him, now leaned a bit closer to his webcam seemingly to read more of his messages. "I like your name.” Cam said. _And oh did he love his voice more and more with each passing._ “You seem like a new name around here for obvious reasons." That itself seemed to make him giggle again. "S'pose I'll call you ‘Site’ for now newcomer. People love their privacy and all that don't they." He looked away for a moment as if in thought, before he turned to the camera again, a bright dazzling smile on his face. A hand ran down the expanse of his tight shorts, smooth fingers trailing down his thigh. "Though you guys aren't exactly here to hear me talk all night long." Then he paused for a moment. "But my day has been okay. Thank you for asking." He smiled as his eyes crinkled.

 **IHateThisSite:** Of course

 **IHateThisSite:** and i dont mind if you talk a lot though, your voice is lovely

 **BigDxckDom:** _nice thighs cutie_

 **Jeviljackson:** _yes your voice is so sexi!!!1!_

 **Masterbaiter_69:** _It is the cutest voice. Truly fitting for a cute King._

In fact he loved his voice. It was smooth, a bit raspy when he whispered but it was nice to hear in the dark of his room all the same.

It was only when he looked down at his wrist did he see the red line, a delicate pattern now carved onto his skin. He stared down at it in silence for a long, long while, unmoving in the night of his bedroom. Alex blinked once. Then twice.

Suddenly an indescribable feeling washed over him. He wanted to close his laptop promptly, but he didn't lest he risk losing him. He used his phone to take a screenshot of the site, then one of the camboys username. He followed the other for good measure, just to make sure. Hopefully this wasn't weird.... but holy shit. His eyes frantically darted back to the livestream, eyes trying to pinpoint the red that plagued his own hand and oh- it was just his luck that the other was wearing a matching pair of sleeves over his wrists.

He tsked, running a hand through his dark-brown hair.

But still, he was positive... even if he couldn't see the mark.

God this couldn't actually be happening could it?

_His soulmate was a camboy._


	3. the art of uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He paused, watchful eyes lingering slightly. 
> 
> There was someone sitting to themselves in the chair to the very left of him. They seemed quite comfortable, relaxed even as they settled into their seat. The kicker of it all though, was that they had been staring right at him, even as they locked eyes..  
> And yet they didn’t look away after being caught staring. In fact it only seemed to delight them more.
> 
> The stranger offered him a cheeky smile, eyes squinting slightly in a way that can only be described as ‘cute’. It was as if he’d seen him nosily scoping out the scenery and couldn't help but stare as well.
> 
> “You got a name, or you gonna keep staring?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tiredly chanting* Quinn chapter! Quinn chapter! Quinn chapter! Qui-
> 
> finally a proper Lang introduction  
> it'll be split into two chapters because.... it do be kinda long..... and the second portion do be having sexual content tho  
> : ) i understand some of you get grossed out by that so there's the option to skip this NEXT chapter and continue to plot
> 
> **Also i'd been kinda hesitant to post this chapter for awhile..... or even continuing to post this story since uh..... one of our main characters is a detective/cop guy.... and considering the current social climate with things going on i wondered 'hm... would it be alright to still post this?' of course nothing untoward or violent happens in this story, so i said alright ill continue**

The night air had a certain chill to it, the familiar sting of cold air making Quentin’s eyes burn. 

He hadn’t slept in days, tired from nights spent hunching over case files and having late meetings with his sector. They’d all been trying to locate the recent perpetrator from a particular case, having gone through bouts and bouts of leads that all lead to dead ends. It had been quite tiresome coming up short day after day in, the frustration of being so close yet so far lingering over their heads. But then finally; and that was a _big_ finally, did they make a breakthrough. After several slip-ups his team had been able to pinpoint some recent gang activity to a particular night club. 

It wasn’t like the place was hidden particularly well anyway. It branched off a bit from the Red-light District. The woodland-side area surrounding the large dark building did give the space a bit of a private spot, but one could easily make their way back and forth between here and the District. Those that went looking could find it easily enough, but still it had a high level of functioning casualty that seemed to keep it off the radar well enough. 

That was just the outside though.

Apparently action was high here, drug dealing and potential talks of trading were just a few things that barely scratched the surface. Obviously it was a nightclub though, people would be drunk and wasted out of their minds. That much was normal. It was to expected even. But still, according to the leads they’d gotten there was a bit more lingering below the surface.

But hey, at least they had free parking.

The plan was to do a stake-out nearly every night, but they couldn't be obvious. Time was never guaranteed to be on their side, but this was the least they could do for now.

They’d taken Quentin’s personal car; another detective driving along in his own vehicle as well. They opted for being inconspicuous. After all traveling and pulling up in police cars certainly wouldn't do the investigation any good; people would scatter like roaches running from the light; the potential perps probably getting away before they could so much as park their cars.

Only a fool would botch their cases like that. 

But still, as the detective stepped out of his car in normal attire, he hoped he didn't look as out of place as he felt.

Quentin Riley Lang liked to think he was an alright person. He was a rather tall, almost imposing figure. Though he hadn’t bothered to measure himself in a few years, it didn't matter much to him after all when people were already constantly looking up to him. In both senses of the word. He had messy jet-black hair, some of it having grown a bit slightly near the back of his neck. He outta tie it back into a little ponytail at some point…maybe comb it back when he had the time, but he was usually too busy to bother anyway.

Speaking of hair though, it seemed he hadn't shaved for some time, the scruff and scrag of a growing beard was steadily but surely starting to set in. There was nothing particularly wrong with that, but he liked to think that he was still quite young ( _Twenty-five was still young right? Yes, most definitely young_ ). He’d rather look the part than way beyond his years so early.

His face must've been a sight to see as he looked on in thought, because an amused whistle was heard from somewhere behind him.

At the sound of approaching footsteps his blue eyes turned to look at the source. He was met with the familiar figure of his partner, an older man already in his mid-thirties. Jasper had somewhat of a foxy look to him, face usually set in some sort of small smile. His hair was dyed somewhat of an odd turquoise color, tied back into a small ponytail. His black roots were already showing at the top of his head, but he didn't seem to care much if at all. The glimmering crinkles of crows feet near the corners of his eyes told many stories of just how much the man found joy in nearly any situation. He could be mischievous when ready, but he was usually a kind fellow when it mattered.

Right now though, Quentin could tell that he was a lot more serious. His aura was different. The tell-tale sign of someone that valued the severity of the environment they’d been set to investigate. Quentin himself felt himself straightening his posture.

“Lang.” He said as a means of a small greeting.

“Hey.” Quentin acknowledged him with a tilt of the head before his eyes were back towards the large building in the distance. Jasper briefly turned to follow his gaze, a thoughtful look setting on his features.

“You ready? It’s do or die here. We’re not quite sure what we’re dealing with after all.” Caution was key in situations like these. Time was a fleeting caution, its embrace feeling like a temporary comfort. One could never guarantee how much time one had after all. They just had to do what they could.

Jasper gave him a discerning look when he didn’t answer. He waved an arm in front of the other to get his attention. “Yooo, earth to Tin Can. Everything working up there, boss?” He lightly joked with a small smile, but it was gone as soon as it happened. “Seriously though, you good.

“No, yeah. I’m fine just” -He seemed to be trying to gather the right words before shaking his head- “It’s fine, i’m good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The other nodded in response, ready to get to work.

Jasper gave him a pat on the shoulder as a small means of comfort. “You go through the front. I’ll make my way round the back, and investigate the bottom rung. You go to the top floor and search around for our perp. Act natural.”

“Natural huh…” Quentin vaguely nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Haven’t been to a club in awhile man. Bars yes, clubs no. I’m a little out of my element.”

The older man seemed surprised at that, probably considering they had a bit of an age difference he must've expected him to get out more.

“Well try to get back into it.” His partner gave him a comforting pat on the back. “We got a job to do. We’re this close to getting a close for this case, so try not to screw up.” His partner cheekily smiled. He meant well of course but he was always blunt in nature, teasing in tone second.

“Last i checked i was the Captain here.” The other sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. _And he should probably act more like one._ He chose to ignore the fond eye-roll the other gave him. “But yeah, yeah. Let’s regroup later alright. From this moment on we do not know or associate in any way with each other. Try not to linger in the same areas too much and try to stick to the walls when you can. We part ways now and enter at different times. You first.”

Hearing the other start to settle into himself a bit put Jasper at ease. _There was the Captain he’d come to know!_ Sure it was awkward having someone so much younger lead the team at times, but he’s quite used to it by now. He was awarded that title for a reason after all.

“Roger that.” Jasper gave a quick nod and salute of the hand. With that he was on his way, waving as he made his way into an alley, practically disappearing into the night. He had his own job to do, and he would get to it.

Which left Quentin....who had his own matters to attend to.

He eyed his attire one last time, giving a quick once over of himself. Usually he liked to dress quite simple, a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans. To top it off he had a bit of a fixation with big coats, the childish part of himself wanting to look like the cool detective’s on TV. Tonight however he forego all of that. 

After a long, hard discussion with Frost, the boy had picked out a loose fitting shirt for him, one that still clung to the natural shape of his body. The other had taken one look at his baggy jeans and grimaced, opting to replace them with some better, well-fitting black jeans. He’d barely had the time to refuse a choker, Frost dutifully adjusted the small accessory around his neck and promising that he looked cool. 

_“I dunno Frost. Is this really hip and cool with the kids though?” He’d ignored the grimace the younger boy had given at his seemingly outdated lingo. Hey, he wasn’t that old! “Is it though, I need answers!?”_

His sneakers had been the last straw however, wanting to keep the pair of slightly tattered shoes on no matter what. With that he’d had the Frost-Seal-Of-Approval, and another outfit added to his wardrobe that he’d _never_ wear again. Perfect!

But hey he looked the part, and he would act it.

He sneaked his way into the line outside, feet practically moving on autopilot until he got up to the bouncer. The large man at the entrance gave him a once over, head tilting down to get a good look at him as he peered over his shades. Goodness who even wore shades at night? He supposed it helped fit the tough, cool guy look most bounces tried to go for. But regardless, it seemed he’d passed whatever mental test the other had assessed him of.

And just like that he was let in.

The change in atmosphere was almost instantaneous as the doors closed behind him. Inside the club was an array of blues, acid greens and neon lights, the bright colors harshly greeting him in pulsing intervals. He swore he could feel it in his bones as the music bounced around in his chest. Everything was almost too loud, too chaotic and all at once as people moved around the space. The lights were dimmed, different conversations all happening at once to mingle into one. It was a bit different than he last remembered… had it always been so loud?

Lang shook his head.

He wasn't sure exactly who he was looking for, but a drug bust was top priority in getting to the deeper picture here. He’d need to be attentive, observing; careful to mingle and blend in so he could see what was going on. Big parties like this always had things going on behind the scenes; people slipping drugs in between the dance floor, unfortunate souls being roofied, and many more. He really hated having to face the fact that these things happened every single day, and there was only so much he could do to stop it. As long as people were out there, they’d keep doing shady things like this, whether it be to make a living or to cause some chaos.

Lang ought to get moving soon... lest the vibration of the bass get to his head and give him a headache. He could feel its clutches already starting to form at the edges of his temples, and he’d rather not deal with that tonight.

Lang snaked his way in the crowd, moving through a sea of bodies like some sort of anti-Moses. Instead of parting the waves he went straight through the chaos, if cautiously, apologizing if he stepped over toes and trying not to bump heads with anyone. Most ignored him regardless, too busy talking or dancing to pay him any kind of attention.

He made his way through until he was finally able to make it to a better spot, opting to lean back on a wall. And for a while he watched; idly surveying the area. 

All seemed normal, as normal as a nightclub could be that is. It was your typical scenery, most large groups being loud as they danced together; while others kept to the wall as he did. There was a lot to watch for, but nothing particularly interesting caught his eye as being ‘suspicious’. At least on the first floor that is.

That’s when he decided to make his way upstairs, gingerly shoving past a couple that was making out in favor of _getting the hell out of there_. He couldn't help but shake his head as he made his way up. If he was with someone he wouldn’t be making out in some dinky club. They'd be on a date at a movie theater or something-

Lang caught himself.

_Right. No need to be having thoughts of romance while working. He had things to do._

Looking around the second floor he could immediately tell the mood was different. Sure it was still loud like the first floor, but not _as_ loud. 

There he saw his sanctuary. The bar.

A small part of his mind said he shouldn’t be drinking while on the job like this, but another part reminded him he could hold his liquor well _even after_ several cups. Also it would look weird if he was just sat at the counter and not really doing anything.

He easily saddled up to the counter, getting as comfy as one could on a bar stool in the middle of a noisy crew of patrons. The people around him were all in their own little bubbles, having been in the delicious stupor of excitement that was being drunk: there was a group of girls obviously out together for the night, making a fuss as they tried to arrange themselves together for a photo in the dim lighting. Two lads were loudly daring each other to a drinking contest, the empty shot glasses all sat next to them lined up in a row as the bartender was eagerly called on for a refill. Some guy was crying at the very end of the bar, various patrons all trying to calm him down; supposedly over a breakup. What a pitiful thing...

And then there was-

He paused, watchful eyes lingering slightly. 

There was someone sitting to themselves in the chair to the very left of him. They seemed quite comfortable, relaxed even as they settled into their seat. The kicker of it all though, was that they had been staring right at him, even as they locked eyes..

And yet they didn’t look away after being caught staring. In fact it only seemed to delight them more.

The stranger offered him a cheeky smile, eyes squinting slightly in a way that can only be described as ‘ _cute_ ’. It was as if he’d seen him nosily scoping out the scenery and couldn't help but stare as well.

He was wearing a long-sleeved black turtleneck; not quite form-fitting but it still left little to the imagination. His legs were crossed, a pair of slim blue jeans covering everything in their place. Even at the club, his black shoes still seemed to be designer. Lang vaguely found himself wondering how much they cost; he could tell they were expensive, but as he looked back up his train of thought was cut short.

“You got a name, or you gonna keep staring?” A smooth voice said after some time.

Everything inside of Quentin screamed that he should turn away, that he wasn’t prepared for this sort of thing after all. But still, he willed himself to settle his nerves a bit. This guy was cute and all, but he still had a job to do. Goddammit, he had a job to do and here he was lounging at the bar! No… this still counted as working right? He’s supposed to mingle, fit into the scenery and act natural. So technically he was within his rights to do this.

He would flirt for the sake of upholding the law!

Besides, who was he to wuss out on a cute guy. He’s chased criminals down 4 blocks just to catch them, he’s busted countless drug rings. Christ he even helped lead a presentation at the local county in front of all the important figures in his line of work, yet he couldn’t handle one guy? Pathetic.

“Uh, right. Hey.” Quentin somewhat sheepishly greeted at being caught staring. He wasn’t the best at flirting by any means, but he at least had that much experience of being able to say ‘hi’ under his belt.

“Hiya.” The stranger said, somewhat amused. “Name’s Dante.” He said moving a strand of hair out of the way. Said hair was wild and wavy, the mop of hair only barely reaching his neck in length. Most of it was brushed back behind him, while a few strands sought to rebel; some sticking out slightly while other strands were falling in his face. The ends of it all stuck up slightly, and the detective found that a small part of him wanted to try and brush it down. Lang couldn't quite tell if it was dark brown or black in color under the lighting of the club, opting to just brush it off as being brunette for now.

Basically speaking though, it was short and cute.

 _Dante_ was short and cute.

Unfortunately, his type.

The other looked expectantly at him, as if he seemed to be waiting on something as he played with the straw of his drink. And it was then that Lang realized they were still on introductions. Perhaps he could get some info from the other in the guise of simple conversation. A little chat wouldn’t hurt right?

“I’m Quincy.” He easily lied. “You come here often or?” He quickly backtracked with a shake of the head. “Like, actually _here_ i mean, to this club.”

The other didn’t seem to mind all too much, merely giving him that same amused quirk of the lips. “I go where I please when I need to.” He paused to sip his drink. “Though yes, this club is pretty fun. Cool people. Nice drinks and all that or whatever.”

“That’s nice. It’s always something special when you can find a place of your own to chill at every now and then.” Lang said quite earnestly. “I don’t really get out that much so.” He laughed a little to himself, the sound fading into something a bit more sad.

Dante seemed to eye him for a long while in consideration before he piped up. “You should come back more often then. I mean, most people here are pieces of shits, but they mean well.” He wrinkled his nose. “Mostly.”

Lang merely hummed in acknowledgment.

And suddenly the other leaned closer, not quite caring that he was invading his space. “So, why were you watchin' people?” He outright asked.

“What? I can't look at people while i'm sitting out in public now?” The notion had Lang snorting.

Dante eyed him for a long, _long_ while before simply shrugging. “Touche.”

It was then that they made the rounds to their side of the counter again; taking the time to wipe down the area. The movement caught Lang’s attention, and it was then that he decided to get himself a beer.

He was content to drink it for a while, just listening to the chatter of the people. He was also content to ignore the intense gaze directed at him, feeling the other staring again. After awhile he gave in though, sparing a glance at the other as if to say, ‘ _What?_ ’

“Oh nothing really...” Dante said after sometime. “You're awful quiet over there with your beer is all. You look like a sad sack just sittin’ there watchin’ everyone.”

“Oh?” Quentin raised an amused brow. “Technically that means you were watching me _first_ then.”

Dante merely smiled. “I suppose.”

And for some reason those two words had his chest racing slightly. This time he sipped his beer, but decided to turn towards the other. “Alright, i’ll humor you. How’s your night been so far?”

“It’s been pretty uneventful to be honest.” They huffed. “Same old shit. But, hey!” -They pointedly looked up at Lang- “I think i found something interesting to pass the time.”

“Oh really?”

 _“There he goes again.”_ Lang heard one of the patrons mumble in their direction. He cast them a glance to listen. _“Got his prey for the night.”_

_“Poor thing.”_

Dante shot a fiery glare at the duo, his eyes seeming to light red under the dim lighting. “Anton. Demetrius. _Shut up._ I’m just havin’ a chat.” He said quite clipped.

 _“Right, right.”_ The one Lang assumed to be possibly be Anton spoke up, holding his hands up in mock surrender. _“Sorry to bother ya.”_

The two turned back in on themselves sharing quiet laughs, not even sparing one look at Lang.

“Ignore them Quinn. They’re just a bunch of idiots.” He let his anger fade with a flourish, turning all his attention back on the other. “Say, do you wanna dance?” Dante winked at him. 

“I… uh, i’m definitely not the dancing type.” Quentin somewhat nervously laughed.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun! No one’s gonna judge you anyway. Most people here are hopped up outta their minds on ecstasy or something. Or they're as drunk as sailors. You’ll be fine.” He laughed, grabbing him by the hands to lead him to the dance floor. “Just stay close to me.” And suddenly he felt himself being easily guided away, a smaller pair of hands wrapped around his as they carried on. They felt warm.

“Wait, how do you know people are high here?” Quentin questioned in confusion. The other almost didn’t hear him over the music, not even looking over his shoulder as he tried to shimmy his way through the crowd.

“Who isn’t high at a club, mate?” He snorted. Then with a pursing of his lips, he seemed thoughtful. “Well, most people aren’t, but you get my drift, yeah?”

“Makes sense... I suppose?”

The dance floor was an array of vivid colors, strobe lights flashing in time to the beat of the music. Some upbeat pop song was playing as the bass reverberated around them, a sea of bodies all moving out of beat yet together all the same. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Quentin vaguely found the song familiar; probably having heard it on the radio once or twice, but one could say most top 100’s pop songs followed a similar pattern anyway. Still he tried to relax and let the music flow as he rocked with the crowd.

“So you said you come here a lot?” Lang practically shouted, trying to steer the conversation in a way that might get him some clues. “You seem to know some people by name.” He thought back to the bar.

“Well, if i must confess, i come here every other night or so.” Dante shrugged as he moved to the beat. He seemed to be more of a natural, easily matching up with the rhythm. Whereas Quentin sometimes struggled to keep up, Dante seemed to move like it was as easy as breathing air. As if it was second-hand nature by now. Maybe he really did frequent the clubs a lot. “Not _too_ much, but enough to have a good time. I like learning about people, knowing what’s fun.”

“I reckon it’s safe enough to warrant all the trips here, right?”

He vaguely heard the other make sort of an ‘eh’ noise.

“Well, Wolf Gang owns this club. They keep their people safe. Not everyone is the standard definition of trustworthy but, safe nonetheless. I’m sure we all want to be protected more or less.”

“WolfGang?” Lang questioned curiously. 

“Yeah?” Dante looked back at him with a raised brow. He took a moment to really stare at him. “You really are new around here.”

“Yeah?” Lang mimicked back his prior words, now even more confused. “Is the owner really called WolfGang?”

“No, no no. It’s not a they or a person.” The shorter man shook his head. “Literally a gang. Called _The Wolf Gang_. They just say Wolfgang to sound fancy, like that one band.”

Lang was starting to grow tired of hearing the words wolf and gang so much in one sentence, but still he was curious. This could be a lead to something. Though why would a gang be running a nightclub? Possible cover ups and trades in a safe space? Or what…

But still, he’d try not to make his interest too obvious.

“You mean like the famous Aussie _composer,_ Wolfgang. Not a band.”

“Wait, he’s Aussie too!? Dang, another point for me.”

“You from Australia or something? I don’t really hear an accent?”

“It’s not that noticeable. I can turn it off somewhat if I need to. It’s not that important. What is important though is, technically i’m still right about the band thing.”

“Nope, once again composer. Not a band.”

“Same difference!”

“To be honest I want to know more on that Australian thing.” 

The shorter man rolled his eyes. “You ask a lotta questions don't you think?... Better fix that.”

With a decided roll of his hips he was grinding against the other.

Quentin could feel his head spinning and soon the other was guiding him to the beat. But he really hadn’t done this sort of thing in like…. Ever. And it showed just how out of water he felt. He tried to let himself relax, get into the moment and the flow. And apparently it seemed to work, for the most part.

“You know,” Dante said after some time. “You said you're not much of a dancer, but you seem to be doing just fine.”

“Really?” He couldn’t help but smile a little. And so the two of them just continued dancing together. They ignored the rest of the crowd, for it was just the two of them, together in their own little world. Lang was actually enjoying himself. That happiness was cut short pretty soon though.

He heard the familiar fizzle of static in his left ear, a sign that his partner was trying to reach him.

Right, the mission.

“Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back, gonna hit the mens room.” Lang apologized. He held his hands out in reassurance. “Oh, but keep dancing! Save a spot for me.” He joked, even as the crowd started to gather again, pushing the two further and further away from each other.

“Oh, absolutely! I’ll engrave your name on the dance floor.” The other yelled after him with a roll of his eyes. He watched him go with a smile though and turned back to the dance floor, already mingling with a group of girls dancing together.

Walking into the bathroom Lang didn’t expect much. Though to be fair, one shouldn’t expect much from most public bathrooms anyway. He ignored the splatters and the messes staining the floors. He ignored the rolls of tissue coming from under one of the stalls, and he especially ignored the couple making out on the counter. How filthy. They didn’t even know how often those counters got cleaned! _If at all!_

Lang moved quickly to the furthest stall, careful to close and lock the door behind him. He squatted down near the very corner of his little stall, and properly tapped his earpiece. Thank the heavens his hair helped to hide the thing. It also helped that they made them to mimic different skin tones, so that was a plus.

 _“Jasper, what’s up?”_ He said quietly. _“You find anything suspicious?”_

 _“Hey, it’s about time you answered!”_ The familiar voice of his partner rang through the earpiece. 

_“Where are you Jasper? What’s happening? Give me answers.”_

_“Outside roaming the streets now unfortunately....”_ He heard the older man sigh. _“Before I get into that though how are things on your end?”_

 _“Well.”_ He made sure to keep his voice low. _“I've been hearing about some potential gang activity here. Also drug trades based on what i've gathered. Though i can’t be quite sure. What say you?”_

_“Wait really!? I vaguely heard about the gang ordeal but not the other part... Anyway, i wanted to say that the person that owns this place was just spotted leaving a short while ago! I couldn't really chase directly after him because it’d look suspicious. Also he was heading in the opposite direction of The Red Light District._

_I didn’t think it would be wise to follow on foot alone sorry. I would’ve checked in with you sooner but I'd been surrounded by people up until this point. But continuing on… Apparently the owner doesn’t show up here too often so that really irked me that I missed them…”_

_“Were you able to see them at all?”_

_“No not quite… It was very dark and they had a hoodie on. But they potentially had white or silver hair. I can’t say that info is too helpful considering they can always dye their hair, but it’s worth mentioning at least. Oh! But i was able to snag some info about them in exchange for a kiss.”_

_“Wait, you what? Jasper-”_

_“Listen it’s not important.”_ He quickly reassured, already hearing a lecture brewing at the tip of the other's tongue. _“It’s getting late. I say you keep a close eye on the person you're talking to. Potentially keep them in mind for questioning. I mean, the average club-goer doesn’t just know about the intricacies of a gang or their drug-selling do they? Most people are too afraid to talk about that sort of thing out loud. Let alone with strangers. There’s a chance they could be gauging interest in you for recruiting or selling.”_

 _“Maybe… “_ He scratched his stubble. _“Maybe… but...”_

There was a pause of silence between the two.

 _“What don’t tell me you’re interested in them? You should be expecting_ me _to slack off, not the other way around dude.”_

Lang pinched the bridge of his nose. _“Whatever. End activities for the night since you found something, Jasper. Make a report tonight or early morning tomorrow of your findings ad we can get back to the rest of the Jurisdiction about it. Don’t bite off more than you can chew for tonight.”_

 _“Roger that.”_ He could practically hear him saluting. _“And what will you do, sir?”_

“ _Me? I think i’ll have one last chat before i leave..._ ”

“ _Stay frosty, Lang._ ”

“ _Get some rest, Jas.”_

He disconnected the earpiece and pocketed it with a flourish, taking care to make sure it was off. After washing his hands and promptly ignoring the couple still making out on the counter he left the mens restroom with new vigor. He was heading back towards the dance-floor with heavy steps. It was a regrettable thing he was about to do, but hey, if the guy was innocent then he could walk free.

What a way to ruin a pseudo-date though...

Before anyone could realize what was happening; before the lights and music would completely stop, before anyone could even move or scream, before the club burst into a hurried frantic commotion at finding out an officer was here... Lang had the other in his grip.

And with a heavy heart, he pulled out his wallet and flashed his badge; the shiny gold of his ID not hard to miss even under the strobe lights. “Detective Quentin R. Lang.”

“I’m taking you in for questioning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zoinks


	4. the art of uncertainty (pt 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you have?” He continued, obviously trying to press his buttons.
> 
> Lang remained quiet.
> 
> “...Haven’t? You haven’t.” They quietly corrected after watching him stew for some time.
> 
> Lang made a frustrated noise from somewhere in the back of his throat.
> 
> They seemed amused at his noncommittal reply, and merely whistled. “That’s a shame. It’d be thrilling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway, brief porn warning for this chapter, theres sexual content that happens near the end (but it is in my tags after all : P you know what you got into)
> 
> its badly written tho, youll be fine

The ride back to the station had been surprisingly quiet for some time, not even the low thrum of the radio could cure the tension in the air. After the suspect had continuously pleaded that he was innocent he soon sighed dramatically, opting to just lay back on the seats in bored silence.

He already felt bad that he was taking the other in like this, honestly it was downright horrible that he’d gone about it this way. But he was just so close to cornering this case, and he’d only ask the other a few questions and let him go. There wasn’t too much harm in doing that sort of thing was there?

Right?

Quentin briefly glanced at the other in his overhead mirror. Only to have his eyes widen in surprise to see that the other was staring right back. It was only a split second that darker eyes met his own but it felt too intense, laced with a feeling he was unsure of. It made him a little uneasy. The detective’s eyes quickly turned back to the road, but that seemed to be enough to get the other started again.

“Hey, quick question.” The stranger from the club, _Dante_ ; if that even was his real name, addressed the officer. “You ever mess around in the back here with someone?”

The two of them felt the car swerve suddenly. 

Quickly he tried to regain his composure, hands gripping the wheel even tighter; and with his best authoritative voice, he said. “Firstly, that is not an appropriate thing to ask an officer.” He didn’t miss the poorly hidden laugh that left the other. “And two, that is absolutely not an appropriate thing to do in a police car of all places and three, it is none of your business.” He sternly said.

“So you have?” Dante continued, obviously trying to press his buttons.

Detective Lang remained quiet.

“ _...Haven’t?_ You haven’t.” They quietly corrected after watching him stew for some time, as if he was playing some sort of guessing game.

Lang made a frustrated noise from somewhere in the back of his throat.

Dante only seemed amused at his noncommittal reply, and merely whistled. “That’s a shame. It’d be thrilling, _officer._ ” Hearing him use the term officer now, rather than his name, had almost felt like a slap to the face. Almost mocking even. 

It made Quentin remember what he was really doing. His hands gripped the wheel a little tighter.

The officer kept quiet once again, forcing his gaze to stay trained on the road in front of him.

“It’s really fun.” Dante drawled on, trying to get his attention again. “Kind of uncomfortable due to the space, but still pretty fun.” He leisurely waved a cuffed hand, as if he was talking to an old friend and wasn’t in the middle of being hauled to a police room for interrogating. “You make do in the moment I guess. I mean, like, the idea of getting caught in such a small space in the open is really sexy.” They seemed to perk up suddenly, and already Lang didn’t like where this was going. “Hey _officer_ , I mean if you're willing to try it out we could. I’m sure you had fun at the club, yeah? I’d be happy to continue-”

“Are you… Are you trying to bribe me?” He glanced up at the mirror. “ _With sexual favors?_ ”

“ _What!?_ Me? Psh. Heavens no.” They said in mock hurt. “But if that led to me being let free then _maybe_ …?” He said with a raise of his brow.

Lang practically huffed, eyes on the road once again. “Funny. Let’s drop the topic shall we.”

Luckily the other seemed to respect his rules for the time being, opting to stay quiet again as the lights passed overhead. He seemed to want to say something more, but kept the thought to himself. 

The familiar silhouette of the police station in the distance started to grow closer and closer. Lang couldn't have gotten there quick enough, even with the extra push on the gas pedal. “Thank god we’re here…” He whispered.

Stepping out, he closed his door, moving to pull the backseat open. He was quick to grab the other by the wrist, keeping his hold tight as he ushered them inside. “Don’t try anything funny.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The other said dryly.

He let Lang lead him into the station, the front rather empty save for one other person sat behind the front counter. She paid a brief nod of acknowledgement to Lang as he passed by, already back to looking at the documents in front of her.

Lang knew his way around the place of course, guiding them through dimly lit hall after hall, twisting and turning as in a maze. Dante barely had the time to look at the things posted on the walls, stacks of papers and hastily written notes littered it all. Each room they passed had their lights off, not a sound to be heard. Not a person in sight.

He couldn’t help but mumble to himself. “Where is everyone?”

Dante surprised himself with his own question, turning to look up at the detective’s broad back as he continued walking. They reached a door that led upstairs. It was obvious he was taking him somewhere specific.

“Out. At home off-duty or out working.” He merely answered as they ascended the steps. Quentin was careful to move at a decent pace as not to rush the other too much. “Unfortunately for you I tend to work the latest in this precinct.”

“...I see.” Dante would be a bit more worried if he knew better.

The taller man seemed to finally reach his destination, the two of them entering a long hallway. He opened a gray door to his right and stepped aside, motioning for the other to walk forward. 

Looking inside it was obvious where they had gone now. A simple gray concrete room: two black chairs facing opposite each other with a table in the middle…. And one big window behind them, obviously for others to watch from the outside.

They were inside an interrogation room.

Dante rolled his eyes a little. “Y’know, when i wanted to head back to a room with you tonight this is the last place i expected-”

Lang ignored the red threatening to stain his cheeks and nodded towards the seats. “In. Side. Now.”

“Yes’sir.” They cooly said.

The detective closed the door behind them as he finally stepped inside, turning to lock the door. He motioned for the other to sit, and after a moment of eyeing the other Dante sat down. He barely moved when he felt the other meddling with his handcuffs, and within mere seconds the metal was off of his hands. The resounding clunk as it hit the table weighed heavy in the air.

He was quick to feel his wrists now that they were free, carefully eyeing the marks left from the cuffs being on for some time. Looking up, he heard the other sit down opposite him, and it was silent as burgundy eyes met the detective’s blue ones.

And they stared at each other like that for awhile, until Lang decided he needed to get down to business. With a cross of his legs and the folding of his arms he became a bit more serious.

“So,” Lang said after a moment of quiet deliberation. “Tell me more about WolfGang. What do you know? When did you first learn of their existence? Why is it that they frequent that club?” He paused and leaned forward a bit. “You’re secretly a part of it aren’t you?”

“Like i previously told you I’m not a part of a gang!” They insisted with a small frown. “WolfGang no less…” 

Lang squinted at him. “Then how did you know about them!”

“It’s like i told you before-” Dante tiredly said. “I just know of the gang by word of mouth, okay! Word of mouth! Everyone at that club knows about them!” His frown was starting to become something a bit more on the agitated side.

“So you say. But that still begs the question of why would you knowingly affiliate with a club that’s pro gang related with it’s activity.”

“I-”

“You even said so earlier that you frequent that place well enough. It’s suspicious to me that you wouldn’t know _something_ more about them.”

Dante opened his mouth;once, then twice, then closed it. Lang would amusingly compare the sight to that of a goldfish grasping for air if he wasn’t so tired. “Look, can i just say; it was quite rude of you to cut our little get-to-know short like that with something like this? This off all things. What an odd first impression. I just wanted to have fun tonight.” They almost dramatically pouted.

Ah, so he was trying to change the topic.

But still, Lang couldn’t help but mull over what he’d said. It had been true that in a sense, he did take advantage of him at the club since it all led to this, but…

But… he had his job to do…

It always banked back on him having to do his job. That’s just how it was.

He cleared his throat. “I appreciate the time I spent with you before everything, considering… it was fun but- More important matters have arisen-”

“So you did have fun?” Dante rested his hands on his face as he leaned forward in his seat.

“Please stop trying to change the subject.”

They merely sighed. “I’m afraid i can’t tell you anything Quincy-”

“Detective.”

Dante merely smiled as he continued. “Quincy.” At seeing the other’s face turn red in frustration his smile only widened. “As i was saying. There’s not much i can offer to you at this moment in time…” He sat up a little. “...Unless...”

“Unless…” Ignoring the fact that he was practically admitting that he did know something, Lang was more than curious on what the other was about to say. “What?” He raised a brow.

“If you let me go for tonight, maybe… forget all this happened and perchance… let us start anew then perhaps I will consider say...” Dante shrugged thoughtfully. “Oh y’know, passing some information along.”

Lang had already made his decision by the first sentence. “And risk having you potentially disappear? Absolutely not.”

Dante eyed him for a long while, his smile dropping only slightly. It soon picked back up though, sweet words already falling from his lips. “And who’s to say I would up and go, Quinn? You know my name, what club i frequent, what I look like...”

“All things that can be changed in a matter of time.” Lang stated. “No dice.”

“Oh, how you wound me.” Dante sighed.

The detective could honestly say the same about the other. 

Before realizing he sighed as well. “Well obviously we’re at a standstill here. I say we should be able to come to some sort of… agreement, should we not?”

“...Like?”

“I’m still thinking. Honestly i-”

Lang caught a glimmer of something sparkling and silver tucked under the other's shirt. How had he not noticed it before? It must’ve gotten rustled about during the car ride. He stood up suddenly, moving closer to inspect it. “What’s that under your shirt?”

“What’s what?” Dante actually seemed confused, then something clicked. “Oh, ...my medallion?” And for the first time tonight he gave the other an unsure look.

Lang was already moving forward to reach for it, easily unattaching it from his neck in one fell swoop.

“Hey, don't touch that! It’s important!” _to me_ … is what seemed to die on his tongue. Quickly he straightened up, trying to look impassive. But his eyes kept shining towards the medal.

“Oh this?” Lang said, waving it in the others face. He’d dealt with the others’ antics all night. They’d gotten so close to cracking the case but now they were at a standstill again. He could let out his frustrations just a little couldn't he?

“Yes that.” The dark-haired said dryly. “I’d like it back around my neck please.”

“...I don't know… this could very well be related to the case.” Lang innocently said. “A gift from a gang member possibly. Perhaps a signal for those seeking drugs to find someone with a medallion glittering in the nightclub….. I don’t know.” He was playing it up now of course, but as he listed these things off he couldn’t rule them out as possibilities.

“ _What-_ drug dealing.” Dante snorted in bewilderment. “You gotta be joking.”

“Oh- _Oh, you think i'm joking now?_ ” Lang almost wanted to laugh. “You clearly haven’t seen joking. I’ll show you what joking is.” And in a moment of silliness the detective shoved the medallion into his jeans.

The room came to a standstill.

All was quiet. Until he’d realized what he’d done. 

Dante stared directly at his crotch, a look of horror and a mixture of unbridled surprise as he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. But soon his face mellowed out, it seemed thoughtful again almost, eyes darting between the detective and where his medal so obviously lay.

Lang shook his initial embarrassment off, moving to sit down on the silver table right in front of him. They were only breathes apart, The Detective in all his height and glory practically looking down at the other. If Dante had moved any closer he would be nearly eye level with where his medal was currently situated.

Surely, this wasn't appropriate behaviour for a detective, but Lang was tired. And maybe downing a drink or two had him entertaining the thought of the other being cute had muddled up his investigation. The flirting from earlier had still seemed to somehow get confuddled and seep into the questioning, and it was only till now that he realized the error of his ways. He was still doing his job right? 

No… No this was beyond the proper protocol of your typical interrogation. His feelings of frustration had just all built up from his prior failings of getting intel, and somehow became intertwined into his tired, drunken mind.

He ought to just call it a night and let the man go, lest he embarrass himself some more. He could use the rest. At this point he was just taking said frustrations out on the other.

_But well…_

_He could have a bit of fun in teasing him before he let him go, yeah?_

"Well guess what," the Detective said quite childishly. "Too bad for your medallion, huh? It's in my pants now. Nothin' you can do about it. I’d be happy to give it back if you properly agree to give me one piece of intel." He huffed. And it was true, there was a distinct round and very medallion shaped outline peeking through the detective's pants. Dante eyed the area long and hard before he sighed.

“I’m sorry, but once again that isn’t an option for tonight... You leave me no choice then, Detective.” Dante said sweetly even as he stared him down.

“Oh, yeah?” Lang eyed him suspiciously. The other was slimmer; a bit more lithe, Lang being built a lot taller and having more muscle on him. He wasn’t worried in the slightest about being attacked. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Dante held his gaze with a sweet smile, ever-silent. Almost as if he was saying, _just wait and see._

Lang had no idea what the other man was up to but somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered maybe if he’d pushed too far; for the hair stood just a little on the back of his neck as they continued to lock eyes. And suddenly it was all too much for him, those intense eyes that seemed almost red under the lighting of the room. Lang was the first to break away from the eye contact, turning his gaze somewhere away in the room. 

His body was still turned towards the other, sat on the edge of the table as he did. He was sure he looked the absolute perfect picture of intimidating as he sat there, his body still reigning tall even from his position. Just like they taught him in training. But still the heat of the others' gaze felt like too much in that moment. And it was for the first time in a long while that he almost felt… small.

But as Lang started to think these things, his train of thought was interrupted.

And suddenly, slender hands were on the detective’s thighs.

Lang felt himself still.

He hadn’t dared move from his position nor turn his head. All he could feel was his heart racing. He was almost sure Dante could hear it too. Even though he hadn’t turned to look at him he was sure the other was still smiling; burgundy eyes never leaving him.

Lang slowly turned to look at the other; quiet, not saying anything as they both watched each other.

Then Dante’s hands moved again. His fingers slowly and methodically started to inch up the others’ legs, then all the way to the top of his dark jeans. He stilled again, locking eyes with the other, who still said nothing; could only watch in surprise with lips slightly parted open.

Lang knew good and well that he should be telling the other to stop, to remove his hands because this was one) HIGHLY inappropriate and two) he hadn’t really fully consented in the first place, but another part of him was too surprised to say much. And another even smaller part of him was actually curious. Was almost actually… excited to have something happen.

The other seemed to be watching as well, hands only inching closer slowly. Some part of his brain realized that, in a way he was still giving him a chance to push away.

Lang swallowed, gaze darting back to those hands. They skillfully popped open his jeans, exposing Lang’s red briefs and low and behold, the other’s medal. It was resting on top of his dick which; was already half hard much to both their surprise. That seemed to amuse the other.

The detective looked away in embarrassment. 

This whole situation was just embarrassing in the first place; the notion that he’d been flirting earlier with this man and now they were back at the station like this… him sat on an interrogation table of all things with his dick so close to said man's hand. This certainly crossed many lines.

And yet, the idea of being exposed like that was… enthralling.

Though Lang half expected the other to just grab his stupid medal and let him be. He’d send him on his way immediately after; opting to forget this whole ordeal, but then... the other grabbed the medallion and put it to the side. 

And ever so slowly his slender hands returned to their place on his briefs.

"Oh, where oh where could my medallion be..." He innocently said as his fingers dipped along the waistband of the detective’s briefs. Lang’s breath hitched. They locked eyes for a silent moment, Lang’s looking ever the mixture of surprise and confusion, and the brunette merely smiling back up at him. Then Dante’s hands grew bolder, finally gripping his length. " _If only i could find them._ ”

“ _Ah_ -” A choked noise left Lang’s throat, not only surprising Dante, but Lang himself. It was one thing to use your hand of course but it was another to have someone else's fingers around you.

Dante however, only seemed to relish in the sound, wanting to hear it again.

He slowly, almost teasingly ran his hand up and down the surface of his length, using his thumb to finger the slit in the tip. A lazy, smug smile practically tugging at his lips.

Somewhere in the back of Lang’s mind he realized his legs had spread, just to give the other easier access. The thought had him flushing red even more than he already was.

Lang shuddered. “ _D-Dante-_ ”

“ _Detective~_ ” He merely said with a coy smile. “Did you need something?”

“ _Mmf._ ” The older man whined. “ _Please...please-_ ” He was unsure if he was even speaking properly at this point, the word please constantly falling off his lips into something of an incoherent babble. The younger man seemed to finally take some pity on him though.

But only some.

“How greedy of you.” Was all that Dante whispered in the air, but he continued on nonetheless, pace hastening with every move of his skillful wrist.

Everything moved so quickly that Lang barely had time to react before he felt those same slender fingers running across his most sensitive flesh. He writhed and moaned, a very satisfied and explicit sound leaving his mouth this time. Clapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, he was surprised at the sound that he made. It only seemed to spur Dante on, moving from bottom to top before settling upon his cock. It was hard, painfully so, and he moved his thumb across the head with relish.

There was no anticipating how wonderful this felt, even with the shame that came with it.

_“Cum for me, Quinn.”_

He could feel the pressure pooling within the pits of his stomach. It felt different than anything ever had before, instilled an urgency in him that he’d never known and he found himself bucking with increasing vigour against the ruthless hand in response. His legs trembled as it grew, shaking as he got closer and closer.

And almost embarrassingly quickly the detective shudders, a low, strained noise escaping his lips as he cums. And Dante in all his glory milks him for everything he’s worth, seemingly satisfied at his handiwork. 

Dante finally removes his hands, opting to examine them. His palm and fingers are absolutely dripping, the digits covered with cum from where the officer spilled onto him. He can feel the detective watching him, still coming down from the high of an orgasm; tiredly panting. 

It’s then that Dante’s eye contact is heavy, extra purposeful as he watches him. And then he’s lifting his hand up to his own mouth, his small tongue slowly licking the cum off of his fingertips. Each lick is deliberate, and the look on the others face is downright delightful.

Still in a haze of riding down from his pleasure, the detective can only watch in mild horror and tired embarrassment as he cleans up his hand. But yet he can’t bring himself to look away.

Lang swallows nervously as it all finally starts to catch up to him. And for a moment it’s as if his mind is static. As if on autopilot he tucks himself back into his pants with a somewhat dazed expression on his face. And suddenly his face goes very red.

 _Wait what did he just do? What did he just allow to happen?_ A small part of his brain panics.

It’s as if the other can hear his mind going into overdrive, and he decides to break the silence. "You don't seem like the type to do this much huh, officer."

"I..." It’s as if he suddenly remembers that the other is still there. He briefly looks at him before avoiding eye contact.

Lang rubs the back of his neck rather sheepishly. Then mumbles something.

Dante raises a brow. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I…” He coughs. “...Haven't done... this before." He practically mumbles to himself.

"What, handjobs or..." Dante curiously asks.

"Well...Anything." He quietly chokes out. And with a sigh he continues. “Whatever mess we did on the dance floor was practically as much as i…” He couldn’t even finish his own sentence, much too embarrassed to fully admit it. _But why the hell should he feel embarrassed for not messing around with anyone, huh?_ It was just society that looks down on those that haven’t done anything by a certain age. He was perfectly fine.

Dante seems surprised almost as he just stares at him. Lang can see the gears starting to turn in his head. And it must be the way Lang’s face reddens that really gives it away when he finally seems to catch on. 

Dante abruptly sits up at that, leaning forward as if to get a better look at his face. "You!? You're a virgin!?” He practically yells in excitement. _Oh this?_ This was beyond amusing. It was downright entertaining.

“Would you shut up-” He weakly musters. “Yes fine! I- I’m.” Lang held his hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever, what does it matter.”

“Oh no, that’s more than fine. That’s quite fun actually. However.” Dante stands up straight then, giving the older man his space. “This makes things interesting…” He seems thoughtful. “Tell you what. I’ll help you out on your case… if…”

That seems to grab his attention again. “”If?”

“If, i have the chance to see you again. In a non-professional sense of course.” He seemed excited almost. And for some reason that unnerved the older man. “Do we have a little deal then, mate?”

Lang was quickly learning not to trust his coy and easy-going smiles.

A thought briefly rang through the back of his head; those guys saying something about the other having found his prey for the night… Was this the sort of thing they’d meant?

He eyed his hand suspiciously, the same hand that had jerked him off a matter of minutes ago. Yet still he moved to shake his hand, if not cautiously. “Fine. We have a deal.” 

“Nice, nice, nice! I promise you won't regret this” _Lang had a feeling he would honestly._ "Let's play around another time, officer." He winked, heading towards the metal doors and unlocking it.

"Detective! I-It's Detective Quentin R. Lang to you."

"Quentin, huh..." He seemed to test the name out on his tongue. "I’ll call you Quinnie. I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other around. And oh! One more thing… call me Damien.” He smiled. “That’s m’real name.” And with that he exited through the metal doors.

Of course, they had never actually been properly locked in the first place. And it wasn’t like much of the staff was around so late at night anyway. So he let him go.

“Damien…” Detective Lang sighed as he slid down in his chair. _What has he done..._

The bastard didn't even leave his number.


	5. the art of ignoring the obvious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo comes to a realization, and promptly ignores it.

After the whole debacle at the coffee-shop the other night, Leo tried to forget about the mysterious stranger and that sketchbook of his. He had too many things on his plate; too many other variables to worry about in his miserable life. Finding his supposed soulmate was the last thing he needed. And honestly, it didn’t help that the memory of the glowing red on the others wrist still plagued his mind every now and then.

No, what he really needs is to push all this nonsense to the back of his mind and be done with it. For his own sake.

If there was a God, he was surely looking down on him from wherever he may be; and smugly flipping him off at that. Well, Leo would just simply raise his middle finger right back.

Goodness, a _soulmate_ of all things...

Yet still...even so, he couldn't really bring himself to throw away the scrap of paper he’d been given that night: it’s contents still containing the carefully written number, and a decidedly detailed drawing of himself; the depiction having him seemingly in thought. Nope. No matter how much he’d looked away, closed the paper and reopened it, all of the scribbles were still there. It was almost as if they were mocking him as well, as crazy as it was. 

But seeing as he; for some reason, couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, he’d come to another conclusion. The aforementioned drawing was tucked away in his room on his nightstand, hidden inside a book where he'd write down silly thoughts and daydreams every now and then; a book of silliness and fantasy to say the least. Meaning the scrap of paper was absolutely ridiculous in his eyes.

Perhaps one day he could look back on it and have a good laugh.

But for now he’d promptly ignore the keepsake.

After all, it was better to have it out of sight and out of mind. 

He preferred to live in reality anyway, the present and it’s ever daunting obstacles were already enough to deal with as is. 

Leo had gone to his early morning class as usual that day, and had made it to work on time to start his shift with one of the other part timers.

Keeping busy was his thing. That's always seemed to be the way to keep his racing thoughts preoccupied, for if he was doing something else his mind wouldn't have the time to dwell on such trivial problems.

Problems like some stupid guy claiming to be his soulmate and practically forcing his number on him-

He realized he was gripping the change he'd just received a little too tightly, the customer in front of him giving an almost concerned look. _Almost_ though. They were far more interested in being served and going about their day, just as everyone else that entered the establishment was.

Right. He was still at work. And very much on the clock.

Leo offered them a somewhat polite smile in apology, seemingly trying to get his mind back on task. 

So maybe he had a soulmate. So what. Less than 40% of the population did. What did it matter if he was considered "one of the lucky ones" by society's standards. That doesn't mean that he has to act on it in the slightest. Most people would wait a lifetime just to find theirs, but he wasn't most people.

In fact there were many couples out there that weren't soulmates; like his roommate Mickey and his girlfriend. Or some had found them in the form of platonic relationships; long-lasting friendships. He shouldn't have to just drop everything to attune his life to someone else's.

Leo had his own ideals and plans for the future. And that future consisted of him and him only. And well, maybe Quinn, Sunny and Frost too, those idiots. But he'd never say it out loud.

He was seemingly lost in thought again, his hands idly brushing some strands of reddish hair out of his face. _Soulmates don’t matter much._ Is what he told himself.

_A soulmate doesn’t define you._

_A soulmate isn’t important._

_A soulmate-_

His train of thought was cut-off as the storefronts bell rung.

The chime seemed to knock him out of his bitter stupor, a welcome distraction to the agitation that was his racing mind, that is, until he was proven oh so wrong.

There was the unmistakable blonde hair from yesterday, their slightly tanned skin was bundled up in a thick parka and track pants. And Leo could only watch in mild horror as the tall boy entered the threshold.

The blondie- _heck, he wasn't even going to learn his name_ , was back again from yesterday. His eyes were pointedly searching around the store until they landed on Leo behind the counter.

The two briefly made eye contact before the other quickly glanced away, making his way over to the same corner seat from yesterday. There was a slight flush on his face, whether it was from exertion or embarrassment Leo couldn't care less. Leo however had met his stare head on, not even trying to hide his glare.

What he cared more about was _Why-Was-This-Guy-Here-Again!_

Leo quickly opened up his phone, opting to text Mari:

_\--yo. you remember the weirdo from yesterday?_ _  
__\--he kinda came back…  
\--This feels so fucking awkward  
_ _\-- must've expected me to call him back or something_

_Curse customer service jobs and the fact that he couldn’t really walk away from the situation. Oh but maybe he could go on break if the guy tried to get up and order something… But geesh, why the hell is it so common for weirdo customers to harass employees into flirting. He really hated such awkward situations._

Mari didn't exactly reply right away, but as he was about to close his phone he felt the vibration. Seeing her name light up had onscreen instantly brought some relief to his soul. He was quick to open the message and read it:

-oh no… im sorry : ( i dont come in until later today

-we can keep messaging until then if that helps

-or better yet I could ask pops to drive me there early. hes got the car rn so… :( 

-also what's this abt calling!? you have his number now or something??? we’re talking abt this later y’hear

He shook his head, even though she couldn't see it.

  
_\--its fine dnt come in early, just wanted to let you know if I end up dead in a ditch or somethin you can identify the culprit or whatever._   
_\--i’ll manage tho._   
_\--i think. ttyl_

He pocketed his phone, not bothering to wait for her to reply again. He had a job to do after all.

Right. 

He just needed to get into the working mindset, let that overtake his mind with the familiar motions of managing the machines and talking to customers. That's all he needed. That’s all. Yet still, it felt like someone was watching him.

Fortunately fate didn’t seem to hate him that much, for the bell chimed once again. And this time it was a familiar face he actually didn’t mind seeing.

"Yo!" Frost lightly greeted the other as he came up to the counter. He brushed his white hair out of the way almost excitedly.

“Hey.” Leo checked his phone. “Shouldn’t you be heading to class soon or something? Or was that a different day.” Leo liked to think he was good at memorizing shit, especially when it came to his friends’ schedules, but was still human.

"I am! I am! Or rather, I will.” He leaned over the counter. “Just wanted to check in before I headed off to English. And ooh get this- Apparently, _and this is a BIG apparently_ , we're getting a new last-minute teacher or something. Last one had to transfer to another country. Or his degree got revoked or something I dunno. Just what I heard."

With the autumn air still freshly new, school had started back up recently, and for university students there was already much to do even so early into the semester.

"A new teacher, huh. Well you best behave, yada yada and all that.” Leo rolled his eyes, opting to start wiping down the counters. “You said you're not good at English right, but I _know_ how you are. Try to take notes and pay attention, mkay? You have the potential.”

He heard the other sigh.

Being a bio-chem major was already rough. Frost liked numbers, as much as they tended to frustrate him. But English was his downfall. He was decent at it, yes. Decent enough to barely pass each term, but geez did it bore the hell out of him. "Why do they make you take mandatory classes…" He tiredly complained. "It’s b.s."

"It is, but they make you do it for a reason.” He wrinkled his nose. “Well, sometimes. And that's a BIG sometimes." Leo had his fair share of questionable experiences in school. The schooling system never failed to disappoint him however. But you do what you need to do to survive each term.

Even if you’re hanging on by the barest thread of string.

“Sometimes.” The white-haired boy dryly said putting the word in finger quotations.

“I mean it Frost. Try to pay attention. I know you’re on scholarships for some things with the added benefit of financial aid, but it’s better to get this shit outta the way than have to do it again and potentially waste more time and money."

"I know, I know.” The younger of the two pouted. “...But I'm allowed to complain a little, aren't I?"

"Of fucking course you can.” Leo slammed his hands on the counter. “Complain all you want! Hell I can complain too!" He sure as hell could use it.

Most customers ignored them, already used to the sudden loud outburst that would come with Leo talking to his equally loud friends. Other customers looked up in confusion, but soon returned to whatever conversations they were having.

"Great! I hate that textbooks cost so much." Frost loudly dubbed after a moment of thought.

"I can't stand mandatory presentations worth 50% of my final grade!" Leo added on.

“Yeah, yeah!” Frost leaned in closer on the counter. “And parking on campus should be free!”

“You don’t even have a car!” Leo said in mock exasperation.

The two looked at each other in silence for a long while before breaking into shared chuckles. Leo was the first to recover, shaking his head with somewhat of a bittersweet smile. Despite having clean hands he dusted them off on his apron, just to give himself something to do while the moment passed.

"School kinda sucks, huh." Leo quietly said as he watched Frost settle down.

He heard him hum.

"It has its ups and downs." Frost said fondly. He eyed his phone, then shot the other a quick smile. "But I do feel better after complaining a little. Thanks. But still I need to head out right about now. If I wanna make it there on time at least!” He got up from his spot at the counter, packing his things and getting ready to leave.

Leo was honestly more surprised he wasn’t getting anything to go, but one could only have iced coffee or hot chocolate so much. And he was actually quite proud that he was making an effort to get there at a decent time. So he let him be.

“Stay safe.”

Leo watched the other wave. "Well I'll be on my way."

It wasn’t as if the world magically became quieter again now that Frost was gone, but it was almost like he was sent back to reality. The hum and thrum of quiet conversations and the low whir of machinery slowly brought him back to. And just like that he was back to working.

He’d felt those same set of eyes from earlier watching him again and could only sigh.

Hopefully this wouldn’t be a reoccurring thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo: god no one better be watching me obsessively >:(  
> Chase: *eye emoji* *eye emoji* *eye emoji* *eye emoji* *eye emoji* *eye emo-


	6. the art of meeting familiar strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frost gets acquainted with his new uni teacher.

The sound of crisp, alcohol based marker writing against the large whiteboard seemed to take the defining presence in the silence of the university room. In fact it was practically deafening, eerie even.

No one dared talk. Heck there wasn’t even your typical cough that could be heard ringing throughout the room; and not out of fear, but something more akin to quiet respect. A mutual curiosity.

The students all watched as said marker spelled out the familiar words they’d expected to see written on any first day. But otherwise, they were all tired university students, most with their heads on the desks, and others texting underneath their respective tables. Frost had his place at the center of the room, eyes focused on the whiteboard. He was never one to sit right at the front, as much as he enjoyed attention from time to time, but sitting at the back had its cons in a larger learning environment sometimes. 

As if pondering on this himself he eyed his spot at the long connecting table, students on both his right, left and below him. He could see some hastily hidden pieces of gum stuck under the row of tables below him, but to be fair under his own desk was probably much the same; even if this was quite the prestigious university.

Frost didn’t dare look under the table to see for himself.

Either way he was here to learn, and it was the first day of the term. He always had a chance to switch seats later on if he really wanted to. What mattered now was him trying to pay attention. Even if the scenery outside seemed a lot more interesting at the moment. As the light bounced from outside the windows cast a very typical light on the rest of the room; but Frost could see that far off in the distance the clouds were grey. Perhaps it would rain later.

It was a shame he didn’t have an umbrella or anything. Though he supposed he could just check the app on his phone to confirm if he really wanted.

The upside to going to a university with Leo and Sunny was that he’d be able to hang out with them from time to time, but this particular English course was one that only he had, having been mandatory for his major after all. He wondered what the two of them were up to right now.

As much as he wanted to take a glance at his phone, he promised Leo that he’d try to be somewhat attentive.

_Somewhat._

Because something else had caught his attention in the quiet room that day.

He couldn’t help but wonder about the tall man at the front of the room; all messy brown hair and a seemingly decent build all tucked into a longwhite coat and a turtleneck. He’d only stolen glances here and there but from his spot in the center, but it seemed like the other was wearing glasses; and red ones at that. Perhaps whenever it was he finally decided to turn around he could get a better look.

But heck ...this was the person that would be his teacher for the term. 

He seemed to be the more stern serious type, just going off of appearances. But still Frost couldn’t help but wonder.

_What happened to the last teacher?_

With a satisfied closing of the cap, said tall man had turned to face his new class for the semester. He smiled slightly, leaning forward on his desk.

“Hello everyone.” He suddenly projected, his deep voice addressing everyone in the room. He took the time to adjust his glasses.

 _And yep. Definitely red frames._ Frost noted to himself.

Most students sat up a bit straighter, trying to pay a little more attention. Frost found himself sitting up a bit as well. Others still seemed a bit impassive however, but the man before them didn’t seem to mind all that much.

“I know, I know. Tuesday mornings and all that, weird day to start classes but what can you do.” He shrugged a bit with an equally tired grin, moving around his desk to walk to the front of the room. “But hey, at least it’s not Monday though, yeah? That’s good!”

There were a few quiet murmurs of agreement.

He cleared his throat, moving on at the mostly lukewarm response. He wouldn’t be deterred that easily. 

"My name is Professor Alexander Vincent Allen. Once again, Professor Alexander Vincent Allen.” He motioned to the whiteboard where he had written his name earlier, which was covered in very suspiciously neat print. It reminded Frost of the kind of text he’d see in a science book or something. “But as this is a _professional_ setting,” He got up again to walk towards it, crossing out some parts of his name. “and we’re all adults here, so please just call me _Professor Allen_. I’ll even take a ‘Professor Vince’ or ‘Professor Vincent’, but use it sparingly.” The older man joked. “Everyone good so far?”

There were a few delighted and amused chuckles around the room. He seemed pleased that most students were already seeming to respond well to him. That is at least until he dropped the semester’s syllabus in their faces in great detail… but hey, it was always good to get a course outline out of the way on the first class anyway.

And Allen, with all his extensive years of teaching knew that more than anyone. 

He made sure to keep it light. As light as one could for a college course that tried to jam as much as it could into one term. He’d have his work cut out for him if he actually wanted his students to retain the needed info rather than memorize just to pass his class. The gears were already turning in his head even as he read out instructions: How should he space out his lessons appropriately? Would it warrant spending a specific amount of time on this subject?...

Well. He would do his best.

He’d gotten to the last page of the syllabus finally, just as tired as most others in the room, but as the instructor he tried his best to hide that fact. He kept his tone light, occasionally looking up to answer questions or expand a bit more if anyone was curious. He appreciated that even though most seemed bored there was still a general respect to try and listen and take down notes.

Perhaps this class would be enjoyable to teach.

That is, until his eyes happened to land on someone tucked away near the middle of the room.

He quickly did a double take.

_How had he missed them all this time?_

They bordered on wanting to look attentive but were obviously still bored at being in class. Nonetheless they had their laptop out, typing away as Allen went through the material. 

But as Allen looked closer he just knew, that sinking feeling in his gut must’ve been right.

This particular student looked familiar. A bit too familiar somehow.

It was almost silly how quickly his mind tried to backtrack and think on where he had possibly seen this person before. The coffee shop? On his drive here to work? Was he just simply a standard passerby as he made his way around town?

No. There was a nagging suspicion in the back of his mind, an answer he already knew but was too afraid to admit it. He recognized little pieces of them too vividly, for he’d seen them at night and in his dreams.

And honestly, he couldn't believe it.

There sat the camboy from the porn site he frequented, just sitting in _his_ lecture. He was sure of it.

Where Alex had grown used to seeing pink contacts, there was a startling lack of the bright color, now a more subdued brown replaced them. Where a seemingly clear face appeared on screen now had freckles littered all over them, whether due to the camera quality or simply the applying of makeup he wasn’t sure. But it was unmistakably them though.

_It had to be._

The Professor coughed, getting slightly derailed from his explaining. Luckily no one really seemed to notice or care much, so he tried to feign normalcy again. But he couldn’t help but sneak glances at the other. 

Nonetheless he quickly decided that he best play it cool. I mean, how awkward was it for something like this to occur. Heck how likely was it even? To find out that the cam guy you watched was your university student? 

He quickly returned to his desk, nimble hands moving to his computer. 

He supposed in situations like this it was best to maintain distance.

And so he would.

Professor Allen cleared his throat, gaining everyone’s attention again. "Now that we have the syllabus sorted out, I reckon the end of class is more than optimal time to do this last part. I'll only do this once, for my sake of trying to get to know everyone.” He said suddenly being a bit more serious. “It is still your duty to show up to class and turn in assignments. I won't try to chase after you too much for them. At the end of the day you guys are all adults. And as adults you are being provided a service; a service that is entirely up to you to adhere to."

The room was still mostly silent, save for the familiar sound of light raining starting to hit at the windows.

“I will be taking roll call now.” He promptly announced, looking at his computer screen. “Lila Anderson….”

_“Here!” A young, feminine voice popped up from the back. It was a very peppy girl with her white hair in pigtails. She excitedly waved her hand to make sure he saw her. He also noted that she had been one of the few to ask questions on the syllabus._

“... Eric Campbell….” 

_“Hey.” Another more bored sounding voice said close to the front._ _It was some kid with bright blue hair, obviously quite ready for class to be over as he leaned on the desk. But even from his spot at the front it was clear he was still taking notes._

The Professor checked it off on his attendance sheet. “...Esther Hunter…Jax Jones...” One by one he went down the list of students, eyes flicking up each time to look at who answered. Until eventually- “...Cameron Marsh…”

“Here.” A voice said from the middle of the room. And looking up, The Professor was pleasantly surprised. It was the camboy- er, _his new student_ that had answered. Though come to think of it, he supposed if he was in this class he had to answer attendance eventually. Hm.

 _Cameron._

So his name was Cameron. He made a mental note to try and remember. But teaching came before any other sort of thought he may have had, so he continued taking attendance. And before he knew it the bell had rung. Ah, what wonderful timing. He bid his class farewell and thanked them for attending, hoping that they all would get through the term well together. And with that they were dismissed.

The Professor watched as everyone exited the room, some students hurriedly making their way out, while others took their time to pack up. Cameron seemed to be the latter, carefully stashing his laptop and taking a look at his phone, presumably to check the time. Professor Allen hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. 

As if he realized he was being watched he turned around to look, his gaze momentarily wandering before they locked eyes with the Professors’. 

As quick as it happened Alex was turning away, moving to tend to his desk and pack up himself.

For some reason Frost couldn't help but find the gesture weird, but he chalked it up to his new teacher being a bit tired and not up for socializing, Which, was fine. He understood that feeling. Nonetheless, he called out to him, saying _‘Good Day’_ before he left. Frost walked out of his lecture that day, unsure why his chest felt so uneasy.

He had more important things to be doing now however so the feeling could wait.

And all the while without realizing his wrist had glown red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats what wearing hoodies and long sleeve shirts all the time gets you though
> 
> but thank you for reading! comments and kudos are super appreciated <3 ( ᐛ )و


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